flora
"The spirits don’t—?" Flora starts, a faint crease settling between her brows as she follows Calla’s earlier thought, only for the words to fall away unfinished when the other woman’s attention snaps elsewhere. She shifts instinctively, weight rolling onto her back foot as something catches her eye too, a warm glint against all that grey, and her gaze tracks the movement of Calla’s hand as the stone is lifted free of the ash.
The light is unmistakable even through the smoke, honey-gold and quietly insistent, and Flora’s eyebrows lift in open approval as a smile tugs at her mouth. "Ooh. Pretty," she says, the sound soft but genuine, eyes lingering on the way it seems to hold the sun inside itself despite everything around them being scorched and dulled.
She tilts her head, considering it, then shrugs one shoulder in an easy, unbothered motion. "If it doesn’t belong to one of the shrines, maybe it’s an offering," she suggests lightly, gaze flicking from the stone to the barrows around them. Her eyes narrow as she peers through the mist and smoke, scanning the uneven rise and fall of the hills. "There’s a shrine to Safrin around here somewhere, I think," she adds, sounding only moderately confident. "Though I always get turned around in these hills, so don’t quote me on that."
The light is unmistakable even through the smoke, honey-gold and quietly insistent, and Flora’s eyebrows lift in open approval as a smile tugs at her mouth. "Ooh. Pretty," she says, the sound soft but genuine, eyes lingering on the way it seems to hold the sun inside itself despite everything around them being scorched and dulled.
She tilts her head, considering it, then shrugs one shoulder in an easy, unbothered motion. "If it doesn’t belong to one of the shrines, maybe it’s an offering," she suggests lightly, gaze flicking from the stone to the barrows around them. Her eyes narrow as she peers through the mist and smoke, scanning the uneven rise and fall of the hills. "There’s a shrine to Safrin around here somewhere, I think," she adds, sounding only moderately confident. "Though I always get turned around in these hills, so don’t quote me on that."
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars
you're either falling in love or falling apart
you're either falling in love or falling apart
