Leaving the choice of venue up to the lovely couple, Thal is about to delve back into the brain-numbing drag of research when Asta suddenly says the most outrageous thing. She barks out a laugh, not caring that she should probably be quiet in the studious setting of the Atheneum. Nearly scoffing, she flicks her hand at him - no doubt as to the dismissal this time. "Mine? Hell no, but you're welcome to bring a red and black bouquet to my funeral pyre."
Still chuckling to herself at her delusional friend (she'll still claim him), she settles back into reading. A headache is beginning to form by the next conversation, her tail starting to twitch and fidget restlessly against her leg. She's pleased to hear he's at least thought about it, even if it makes the point she's found quite useless. Still, she adds casually, "Lots of people use Safrin, right? Dygra probably does it better." Her eyes never stray from the book, but she lifts her hand to rub a drying eye, stifling a yawn as time drags.
Still chuckling to herself at her delusional friend (she'll still claim him), she settles back into reading. A headache is beginning to form by the next conversation, her tail starting to twitch and fidget restlessly against her leg. She's pleased to hear he's at least thought about it, even if it makes the point she's found quite useless. Still, she adds casually, "Lots of people use Safrin, right? Dygra probably does it better." Her eyes never stray from the book, but she lifts her hand to rub a drying eye, stifling a yawn as time drags.
I just want you to set me free.
Thalassa
