slow down, you're doing fine
The heat in Rae’s Fingers is a living thing, thick and pressing, clinging to Flora’s skin like a second, unwanted layer. LongHeat spares no one, and Torchline least of all, so she has dressed accordingly—bare shoulders, bare legs, as little fabric as decency and practicality will allow—gold jewellery warm against her throat and wrists, curls pinned up in a messy knot that already threatens rebellion. Even here, with the sea breathing in and out through the tunnels, the air tastes of salt and damp stone and heat that refuses to move.
Spice perches near her feet, pale and small and alert, frost-sheened breath a quiet blessing in the cavern’s mouth. Flora glances down at her watch again, lips pressing together as the seconds slip by, then the minutes, then enough time that courtesy has officially expired. She exhales sharply through her nose and tips her head, aqua eyes dropping to the little dragon with a look that is equal parts incredulous and unimpressed. "Well," she murmurs, voice smooth despite the edge coiled beneath it, "how likely do you think it is that this is Zavien’s idea of revenge?"
Spice chirrs softly, tail flicking, a whisper of cold curling around Flora’s ankle as if in consolation or commentary. The queen's gaze lifts again toward the dark mouths of the tunnels, each one yawning and indistinguishable from the last, smugglers’ marks half-hidden along the stone like private jokes she very much does not appreciate right now. With a sigh, she widens her eyes at Spice, exaggerating the expression just enough to soften the irritation curling through her chest. "Do you think we go looking for him," she asks lightly, silk over steel, "or do you think we take the hint and head home?"
Spice perches near her feet, pale and small and alert, frost-sheened breath a quiet blessing in the cavern’s mouth. Flora glances down at her watch again, lips pressing together as the seconds slip by, then the minutes, then enough time that courtesy has officially expired. She exhales sharply through her nose and tips her head, aqua eyes dropping to the little dragon with a look that is equal parts incredulous and unimpressed. "Well," she murmurs, voice smooth despite the edge coiled beneath it, "how likely do you think it is that this is Zavien’s idea of revenge?"
Spice chirrs softly, tail flicking, a whisper of cold curling around Flora’s ankle as if in consolation or commentary. The queen's gaze lifts again toward the dark mouths of the tunnels, each one yawning and indistinguishable from the last, smugglers’ marks half-hidden along the stone like private jokes she very much does not appreciate right now. With a sigh, she widens her eyes at Spice, exaggerating the expression just enough to soften the irritation curling through her chest. "Do you think we go looking for him," she asks lightly, silk over steel, "or do you think we take the hint and head home?"
Flora
you can't be everything you wanna be before your time
