slow down, you're doing fine
The chirp reaches Spice before anything else does, a sharp, curious sound that cuts cleanly through the humid hush of the cavern. Flora feels her companion's response to it, and a heartbeat later Spice lifts into the air, wings catching the light as she drifts slightly deeper into the tunnel with unmistakable interest.
Flora straightens just slightly from where she has been leaning against the cave wall, one bare shoulder brushing damp stone as Zavien emerges into the sunlight at her back in a wash of brightness and shadow, and Flora’s brow lifts in cool, lazy acknowledgement. She does not move to meet him, but she does not step away either. She simply watches, the picture of ease, the kind that comes from knowing exactly where one stands. "It’s no problem," she says, voice smooth and unhurried, as though she has not been counting the minutes at all.
Her hand lifts, knuckles tapping lightly against the stone beside her where faint markings have been scratched into the wall; subtle, deliberate lines that mean nothing unless you know how to read them. "These tunnels can get confusing," she continues mildly, fingers lingering there. "Especially if can't read thieves cant." Which, considering Zavien's spelling in his letter to her, the queen isn't surprised that he isn't bilingual.
When he produces the lemonade, Flora’s expression softens into something more genuine, a quiet chuckle slipping free as she accepts the bottle. "Aww, thanks." She lifts it slightly, a wordless signal, and Spice immediately dips down, pale breath ghosting over glass and liquid alike until condensation beads and the heat retreats. The dragon settles back with a pleased trill, clearly considering this an excellent use of her talents.
Flora rolls the chilled bottle once between her palms before looking back at Zavien as he thanks her, the gesture earnest enough that she does not dismiss it outright. "I was surprised to hear from you, actually," she admits, tone even, unguarded in a way that still does not invite too much closeness. Then her shoulders rise in a light shrug, casual as seafoam. "Soh wrote," she adds, as if it were an afterthought. "Said something about Stormbreak..shaking?" Then again maybe it wasn't surprising that Zavien's apology letter followed on the heels of his region potentially needing the aid of her soldiers again.
Flora lifts the lemonade in a small wordless toast before taking a sip, eyes never quite leaving the Commander bathed in Torchline sun.
Flora straightens just slightly from where she has been leaning against the cave wall, one bare shoulder brushing damp stone as Zavien emerges into the sunlight at her back in a wash of brightness and shadow, and Flora’s brow lifts in cool, lazy acknowledgement. She does not move to meet him, but she does not step away either. She simply watches, the picture of ease, the kind that comes from knowing exactly where one stands. "It’s no problem," she says, voice smooth and unhurried, as though she has not been counting the minutes at all.
Her hand lifts, knuckles tapping lightly against the stone beside her where faint markings have been scratched into the wall; subtle, deliberate lines that mean nothing unless you know how to read them. "These tunnels can get confusing," she continues mildly, fingers lingering there. "Especially if can't read thieves cant." Which, considering Zavien's spelling in his letter to her, the queen isn't surprised that he isn't bilingual.
When he produces the lemonade, Flora’s expression softens into something more genuine, a quiet chuckle slipping free as she accepts the bottle. "Aww, thanks." She lifts it slightly, a wordless signal, and Spice immediately dips down, pale breath ghosting over glass and liquid alike until condensation beads and the heat retreats. The dragon settles back with a pleased trill, clearly considering this an excellent use of her talents.
Flora rolls the chilled bottle once between her palms before looking back at Zavien as he thanks her, the gesture earnest enough that she does not dismiss it outright. "I was surprised to hear from you, actually," she admits, tone even, unguarded in a way that still does not invite too much closeness. Then her shoulders rise in a light shrug, casual as seafoam. "Soh wrote," she adds, as if it were an afterthought. "Said something about Stormbreak..shaking?" Then again maybe it wasn't surprising that Zavien's apology letter followed on the heels of his region potentially needing the aid of her soldiers again.
Flora lifts the lemonade in a small wordless toast before taking a sip, eyes never quite leaving the Commander bathed in Torchline sun.
Flora
you can't be everything you wanna be before your time
