The universe is full of magical things
A few berries spill from her overflowing pockets when she turns, unintentionally starting the trail from where the stand, but Knell's attention has turned to the vibrantly colored creature stirring the air around them. She watches how it hovers weightless in the air, how its eyes scan them, how its wings look like stained glass in the patches of sunlight.
"Treeflit," she repeats, attaching the name to the visual. Her head tilts, red hair flowing down her back. "It's pretty." She doesn't say it with wonder or delight, not as a captivated admirer or obsessive artist. Knell says the words like an objective fact, a clinical observation that most would agree with, and that brings forth the smile on her face.
When he suggests getting 'rid of it,' she looks between him and the treeflit. He'd just said it was harmless, and it doesn't appear to be attacking them (yet), so she puzzles through why else they might attack the creature. Only one reason makes sense to her, and Knell looks into his eyes with open curiosity when she asks, "Why? Are you hungry?" Or maybe he thinks Ghilio likes blood as much as they do?
"Treeflit," she repeats, attaching the name to the visual. Her head tilts, red hair flowing down her back. "It's pretty." She doesn't say it with wonder or delight, not as a captivated admirer or obsessive artist. Knell says the words like an objective fact, a clinical observation that most would agree with, and that brings forth the smile on her face.
When he suggests getting 'rid of it,' she looks between him and the treeflit. He'd just said it was harmless, and it doesn't appear to be attacking them (yet), so she puzzles through why else they might attack the creature. Only one reason makes sense to her, and Knell looks into his eyes with open curiosity when she asks, "Why? Are you hungry?" Or maybe he thinks Ghilio likes blood as much as they do?
Knell
patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.
