Flora
The camera comes up so quickly that Flora has only enough time for her eyes to grow vaguely wider before he snaps the picture. She’s still flushed from laughing, curls loosened around her face and smile half-caught between breathlessness and surprise, and when the moment settles into what he’s done, her mouth tips crookedly to one side. She shakes her head at him as though scolding him, but there’s no real reprimand in it, not with the grin breaking through or the affection that slips warmly through the bond after it.
Raising a brow as he clears his throat, Flora gives him the full benefit of her attention, her expression already sharpening with expectation when he mentions length. She waits, very obviously, for him to say something about girth. When he doesn’t, her eyes narrow with theatrical suspicion, as if this omission is far more incriminating than anything he might have actually said.
The squid song begins, and ends, almost before her amusement has properly finished rising. It sparkles through the bond in bright, disbelieving bursts as she watches him bow for an audience that absolutely does not exist. Flora doesn’t clap. Instead, she waits, brows still raised, giving him every chance to reveal that there’s more coming.
There isn’t.
"Wait, for real, that’s it?" Her nose wrinkles, but the laugh catches up with her almost immediately, spilling out bright and helpless. "That isn’t a campfire song!" She laughs again, glancing around the Undergrove as if some hidden council of camping experts might appear to back her up. "And who the hell teaches young Dragoons a song about squids?"
Raising a brow as he clears his throat, Flora gives him the full benefit of her attention, her expression already sharpening with expectation when he mentions length. She waits, very obviously, for him to say something about girth. When he doesn’t, her eyes narrow with theatrical suspicion, as if this omission is far more incriminating than anything he might have actually said.
The squid song begins, and ends, almost before her amusement has properly finished rising. It sparkles through the bond in bright, disbelieving bursts as she watches him bow for an audience that absolutely does not exist. Flora doesn’t clap. Instead, she waits, brows still raised, giving him every chance to reveal that there’s more coming.
There isn’t.
"Wait, for real, that’s it?" Her nose wrinkles, but the laugh catches up with her almost immediately, spilling out bright and helpless. "That isn’t a campfire song!" She laughs again, glancing around the Undergrove as if some hidden council of camping experts might appear to back her up. "And who the hell teaches young Dragoons a song about squids?"
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
