Thalassa
Flora's casual tease gives her the confidence to believe she could actually make the bald look work if she wanted to, the idea makes her laugh, the sound crackling like the warning signs of trouble, a spark of flames beneath the humor. "I'll take that into consideration for next time." Said with all the certainty of someone planning to dye their skin blue.
As for the impending invitation to the bar's grand opening, there's a note of sincerity in her voice, excitement sparking across her eyes. "Look forward to it." Although if it was anything like Danta's birthday party, she'd be sure to find an outlet for her sexual frustrations before daring to attend.
Nodding her head at the firm agreement and the unnecessary need to say more, Thal follows Flora's gaze, taking in the massive presence that is that Mathair. She hadn't known the Queen grew up in the Greatwood. She'd suspected Flora had always lived in Torchline. Her tan skin, blonde hair, and overall fluid nature seems so in tune with the sunshine and lapping waves that she can't imagine the woman existing in the shadowed mystery of the forest - that the trees could contain such a vibrant personality.
It shifts her view, expanding her perspective of Flora as she takes in the towering branches and various war-like scars of the tree goddess, feeling that both are kindred spirits. One is someone who no longer fits the pace she came from, both standing strong and unwavering despite how the world around them has tried to cut them down. Her tail flicks, the only sign of her concern for the persevering plant before the verdict falls.
'Alright.' Thal will take 'alright' over the alternative: her failure.
She takes a deep breath, resisting the urge to run her hand over the scorch marks by rocking back on her heels. "Good. There was a giant fire here last season and I wasn't sure how bad it was through all the smoke." It had looked bad - felt bad - and she has to admire the Mathair's resiliency in spite of it.
Looking back to Flora, Thal doesn't hide her interest as she asks, "How do you usually pay your respects?"
As for the impending invitation to the bar's grand opening, there's a note of sincerity in her voice, excitement sparking across her eyes. "Look forward to it." Although if it was anything like Danta's birthday party, she'd be sure to find an outlet for her sexual frustrations before daring to attend.
Nodding her head at the firm agreement and the unnecessary need to say more, Thal follows Flora's gaze, taking in the massive presence that is that Mathair. She hadn't known the Queen grew up in the Greatwood. She'd suspected Flora had always lived in Torchline. Her tan skin, blonde hair, and overall fluid nature seems so in tune with the sunshine and lapping waves that she can't imagine the woman existing in the shadowed mystery of the forest - that the trees could contain such a vibrant personality.
It shifts her view, expanding her perspective of Flora as she takes in the towering branches and various war-like scars of the tree goddess, feeling that both are kindred spirits. One is someone who no longer fits the pace she came from, both standing strong and unwavering despite how the world around them has tried to cut them down. Her tail flicks, the only sign of her concern for the persevering plant before the verdict falls.
'Alright.' Thal will take 'alright' over the alternative: her failure.
She takes a deep breath, resisting the urge to run her hand over the scorch marks by rocking back on her heels. "Good. There was a giant fire here last season and I wasn't sure how bad it was through all the smoke." It had looked bad - felt bad - and she has to admire the Mathair's resiliency in spite of it.
Looking back to Flora, Thal doesn't hide her interest as she asks, "How do you usually pay your respects?"
I'm in love with my future.
Can't wait to meet her.
Can't wait to meet her.
