Nobody reads a mystery to get to the middle.
Having asked why Uncle Mateo's flowers are the best rather than why Uncle Mateo is the best, Knell is somewhat confused by the initial reply. Her eyes pinch in thought, pulling from their surroundings to look at Kai as if seeing him say the words might help them make sense. It doesn't, but ignoring the original question, she takes the answer for the merit it gives - after all, her mom's worshipping is the best. And it does somewhat help her understand that Uncle Mateo's skill must make his plants the best, even if she doesn't know what makes them better than the next person's. Perhaps that's something she'll have to find out for herself when she meets him one day.
The conversation raises a question though, and Knell hums when she inspects Kai, trying to figure out the answer herself before asking, "What's your passion?" If her mom has one - worshipping - and Uncle Mateo has one - plants - then everyone must have one right? At least, all adults. Knell hasn't figured out hers yet.
The hand on her shoulder makes her pause, attention slipping to the beautifully bouquets of flowers overtaking the stall next to them. Every surface is covered in varying shapes and colors, petals and leaves seeming to grow from every available inch of the wooden structure, leaving only a small hole where money is exchanged.
Knell's nose twitches, taking in the muted scents of this form, her tail waving a delighted rhythm when the bright sweetness coats her senses. She leans forward to breathe it in more fully, a smile spreading wide when the smell is thick enough to nearly taste the purple hues on her tongue. Reaching out a small hand, she feels the softness of the petals. They're so delicate and fragile, threatening to separate even with her gentle touch. "They're pretty," she states, but it's an observation, not confirmation of their choice.
Blue eyes scan the other options, landing immediately on the vibrant red of something labeled 'hyacinth.' They're dense and full of petals, a particularly rich and red sweetness assaulting her when Knell raises her nose to it. The appearance is deceptively gentle, but it stands tall - strong - with an underlying air that draws her close. They remind her of Dygra.
"I like these," she shares, pointing to them when she smiles at Kai.
Talk of food makes her mouth water, stomach gaping wide in preparation for the eventual meal, anticipation building when she thinks of the chicken strips. Mac and cheese might have been preferred to mashed potatoes, but there's a more important question she asks: "Will there be dessert?"
The conversation raises a question though, and Knell hums when she inspects Kai, trying to figure out the answer herself before asking, "What's your passion?" If her mom has one - worshipping - and Uncle Mateo has one - plants - then everyone must have one right? At least, all adults. Knell hasn't figured out hers yet.
The hand on her shoulder makes her pause, attention slipping to the beautifully bouquets of flowers overtaking the stall next to them. Every surface is covered in varying shapes and colors, petals and leaves seeming to grow from every available inch of the wooden structure, leaving only a small hole where money is exchanged.
Knell's nose twitches, taking in the muted scents of this form, her tail waving a delighted rhythm when the bright sweetness coats her senses. She leans forward to breathe it in more fully, a smile spreading wide when the smell is thick enough to nearly taste the purple hues on her tongue. Reaching out a small hand, she feels the softness of the petals. They're so delicate and fragile, threatening to separate even with her gentle touch. "They're pretty," she states, but it's an observation, not confirmation of their choice.
Blue eyes scan the other options, landing immediately on the vibrant red of something labeled 'hyacinth.' They're dense and full of petals, a particularly rich and red sweetness assaulting her when Knell raises her nose to it. The appearance is deceptively gentle, but it stands tall - strong - with an underlying air that draws her close. They remind her of Dygra.
"I like these," she shares, pointing to them when she smiles at Kai.
Talk of food makes her mouth water, stomach gaping wide in preparation for the eventual meal, anticipation building when she thinks of the chicken strips. Mac and cheese might have been preferred to mashed potatoes, but there's a more important question she asks: "Will there be dessert?"
Knell
They read it to get to the end.
