"The worst." She flashes her fangs like one might stick out their tongue, her eyes too bright to be annoyed with being stuck here, not when it's for Asta and his inevitable happiness. Perhaps she'd come to debate the point again later, when her brain is mush from the words drowning her vision and the insufferable quiet of the Atheneum.
Thal catches the softness of the smile, the sincerity in his joy and the love he holds for Danta. "Good. I've heard rumors it only gets better." Does she believe that? Probably not. In her experience, it only leads to heartache and ruin, but she won't spoil her friend's hopes and dreams with her usual pessimism about love. After all, he'll be the exception, even if she has to make it so.
Raising an eyebrow that suggests she doesn't quite believe him, Thal shrugs a sarcastic shoulder, pretending like she might actually take Asta's earlier advice. "Then maybe I should have enlisted your help for this one. Asshole turned into an ursur." She lets the fact fall flat as she lowers her gaze to the pages of her book, skimming the index for the section on 'love' or 'weddings.'
Not raising her eyes, Thal begins to flip through to a section called 'rituals' (weddings are like rituals, right?). "It was more a game of truth or dare," she clarifies nonchalantly. "This" she snags a strand of pale blonde hair that falls into her face "was because I refused to let a guy drag me around the bar by my tail." Just the memory of the thought sends a shiver down her spine, the nerves there quivering at the threat. As if it might still be in danger of being ripped from her body, her tail curls protectively around her leg.
Skimming the page, she finds the boring part breaking down the details of various traditional acts, including one that mentions 'binding love.' "At least I got to keep my hair. Colt ended up bald." A cheshire grin slowly spreads across her face until Thal looks up at Asta, obviously pleased with her own outcome and the bit of chaos she'd sewn.
Thal catches the softness of the smile, the sincerity in his joy and the love he holds for Danta. "Good. I've heard rumors it only gets better." Does she believe that? Probably not. In her experience, it only leads to heartache and ruin, but she won't spoil her friend's hopes and dreams with her usual pessimism about love. After all, he'll be the exception, even if she has to make it so.
Raising an eyebrow that suggests she doesn't quite believe him, Thal shrugs a sarcastic shoulder, pretending like she might actually take Asta's earlier advice. "Then maybe I should have enlisted your help for this one. Asshole turned into an ursur." She lets the fact fall flat as she lowers her gaze to the pages of her book, skimming the index for the section on 'love' or 'weddings.'
Not raising her eyes, Thal begins to flip through to a section called 'rituals' (weddings are like rituals, right?). "It was more a game of truth or dare," she clarifies nonchalantly. "This" she snags a strand of pale blonde hair that falls into her face "was because I refused to let a guy drag me around the bar by my tail." Just the memory of the thought sends a shiver down her spine, the nerves there quivering at the threat. As if it might still be in danger of being ripped from her body, her tail curls protectively around her leg.
Skimming the page, she finds the boring part breaking down the details of various traditional acts, including one that mentions 'binding love.' "At least I got to keep my hair. Colt ended up bald." A cheshire grin slowly spreads across her face until Thal looks up at Asta, obviously pleased with her own outcome and the bit of chaos she'd sewn.
I just want you to set me free.
Thalassa
