Flora
Flora meets Kaisel's gaze over the absurd ruins of the conversation they’ve built together, entirely aware of how ludicrous it has become and not remotely interested in being the one to retreat first. If anything, the worse it gets, the more committed she feels to seeing exactly how far he’ll follow her into it. Her brow lifts, and when she speaks, her voice drops low enough to make the question feel much less innocent than the shape of the words. "Oh, so you’d prefer I had stones like you?"
With that left for him to do whatever damage he likes with, Flora finishes sprinkling the last of the healing water around the roots nearby, watching it disappear into the damp earth before turning back toward the tent. Finding Kaisel already tucked into the beginnings of comfort has her rolling her eyes, because of course he has managed to turn tent setup into lounging within seconds of there being enough pillows to justify it. Rather than join him, she makes a pointed little show of staying outside, collecting the glowstones nearest her and arranging them into a ring where the campfire can go.
"Do you?" The question is aimed at his back while she nudges one of the stones into place with the side of her boot, the glow catching along the rubber and flashing softly over the damp ground. Songs and spells aren’t nearly so separate as he seems to think, especially not when witches are involved, but Flora lets him have the shape of his challenge for now. If he wants a camping song, she can absolutely provide one.
"Okay then, but you have to sing along too." Glancing toward him, she grins as she crouches to straighten another stone in the ring. "The words are super easy. You’ll get it." She clears her throat with a touch more ceremony than the moment requires, shoulders settling back as though she’s about to offer something grand and ancient instead of a song that’s mostly designed to roll around in her head for days after. Her voice, when it starts, is steady enough to carry a tune, though it isn’t sweetness that fills the campsite so much as sheer, infectious delight.
"Ho, ro, the rattlin’ bog, the bog down in the valley-o," she begins, and there’s already laughter curling at the edges of the words by the time she gets to the next line."“Rare bog, the rattlin’ bog, the bog down in the valley-o."
The first verse is easy enough, and she gives him a bright, expectant look as she carries them through it, but then the song starts stacking itself higher and higher in the way all the best ridiculous songs do. There’s a tree in the bog, and a branch on the tree, and a limb on the branch, and each new piece has to drag every earlier piece along behind it like a growing train of nonsense. Flora’s laughter keeps breaking through the words, but she doesn’t stop. If anything, she speeds up, grinning as she forces the rhythm faster and faster.
Flora sings the Rattlin' Bog!
With that left for him to do whatever damage he likes with, Flora finishes sprinkling the last of the healing water around the roots nearby, watching it disappear into the damp earth before turning back toward the tent. Finding Kaisel already tucked into the beginnings of comfort has her rolling her eyes, because of course he has managed to turn tent setup into lounging within seconds of there being enough pillows to justify it. Rather than join him, she makes a pointed little show of staying outside, collecting the glowstones nearest her and arranging them into a ring where the campfire can go.
"Do you?" The question is aimed at his back while she nudges one of the stones into place with the side of her boot, the glow catching along the rubber and flashing softly over the damp ground. Songs and spells aren’t nearly so separate as he seems to think, especially not when witches are involved, but Flora lets him have the shape of his challenge for now. If he wants a camping song, she can absolutely provide one.
"Okay then, but you have to sing along too." Glancing toward him, she grins as she crouches to straighten another stone in the ring. "The words are super easy. You’ll get it." She clears her throat with a touch more ceremony than the moment requires, shoulders settling back as though she’s about to offer something grand and ancient instead of a song that’s mostly designed to roll around in her head for days after. Her voice, when it starts, is steady enough to carry a tune, though it isn’t sweetness that fills the campsite so much as sheer, infectious delight.
"Ho, ro, the rattlin’ bog, the bog down in the valley-o," she begins, and there’s already laughter curling at the edges of the words by the time she gets to the next line."“Rare bog, the rattlin’ bog, the bog down in the valley-o."
The first verse is easy enough, and she gives him a bright, expectant look as she carries them through it, but then the song starts stacking itself higher and higher in the way all the best ridiculous songs do. There’s a tree in the bog, and a branch on the tree, and a limb on the branch, and each new piece has to drag every earlier piece along behind it like a growing train of nonsense. Flora’s laughter keeps breaking through the words, but she doesn’t stop. If anything, she speeds up, grinning as she forces the rhythm faster and faster.
Flora sings the Rattlin' Bog!
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Code stolen from Queen Sky
