aim high, swing hard, leave it out there, no regrets
The Ark tilts her head as Nova shoves together syllables that had been intentionally kept separate. One brow lifts, slow and deliberate, her gaze settling back onto Nova with a patience that doesn’t rush. "The." The word is placed cleanly between them, unhurried and exact, her head tilting just slightly as she offers it, letting it sit long enough to be heard on its own. "Ark."
As it leaves her mouth, the ship answers: a subtle shift rolls beneath Nova’s feet, not enough to unbalance, but enough to be undeniable, the boards adjusting with a low, almost imperceptible movement that carries through the space like something stretching rather than reacting. Behind her, the cupboard she had been rifling through eases shut of its own accord, the wood settling back into place with a soft, final click.
Then, with a jackal's smile, the Ark will reach forward for one of Nova's cookies, plucking one out from the container. "Don't mind if I do."
As it leaves her mouth, the ship answers: a subtle shift rolls beneath Nova’s feet, not enough to unbalance, but enough to be undeniable, the boards adjusting with a low, almost imperceptible movement that carries through the space like something stretching rather than reacting. Behind her, the cupboard she had been rifling through eases shut of its own accord, the wood settling back into place with a soft, final click.
Then, with a jackal's smile, the Ark will reach forward for one of Nova's cookies, plucking one out from the container. "Don't mind if I do."
my blood is in the water and the sharks are takin' bets
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
