”Maybe they just know you are sweeter,” she says with a bit of amusement. After all, she doesn’t hold it against Maea that Ludo will show for her but not for Weaver. Though really, if they were smart, they’d realize that the first god to show the Abandoned some favor might actually win a whole army of Abandoned to their side. Lucky for them, The Voice had turned her back on her own too just as soon as she became something more, preferring her new children to those who were like her, once.
Enjoying the quiet comradery that flows between them, each working on their own magic, Weaver appreciates learning from the more experienced Maea. Maybe someday Weaver could return the favor, or maybe she could just be someone to beat up with some water and ice. Either option worked, she supposed.
The blush on Maea’s otherwise very pale skin is noticeable, and Weaver keeps from grinning. When was the last time Weaver had blushed? It was a great question, because she can’t think of a time. She just wasn’t that sort of girl, blushing neither for a particular boy or a particular action, but she finds that she likes Maea all the more for being that type of girl. There is something infinitely sweet about it in a world that lacks sweetness. Sweet, and yet from a girl who could best an ursur.
”Aaah,” she says, an understanding sort of sound. ”He is rather the attractive sort,” she muses, but it’s clear in the way she says it that she means more than just looks and at the same time, that she’s not interested. She can see the appeal, but there would be no competition from Weaver, at any rate. ”I suspect he’s a tough one to love.” Her voice softens a bit, looking at Maea with something vaguely like understanding in her eyes. Not that she understood on a personal level, except that she was the sort that was hard to love.
Her brows raise just slightly at the mention of the bar, and her eyes sparkle. How much exactly did Maea know? A lot, she thinks, if Maea had indeed been seeing Sunjata. Pillow talk often divulged secrets. ”The Kraai,” she says, offering the name and confirming it. ”Soon, I think. Before Deepfrost. A few details to sort out and then I just need to get the place put together.” She pauses for a moment, waving her hands idly in the air and pulling a piece of fire toward her, clearly just for something to do and not so much to practice. She still likes the visual effect of using her hands. ”Hopefully you’ll stop by, at the very least, once it’s open?”
Enjoying the quiet comradery that flows between them, each working on their own magic, Weaver appreciates learning from the more experienced Maea. Maybe someday Weaver could return the favor, or maybe she could just be someone to beat up with some water and ice. Either option worked, she supposed.
The blush on Maea’s otherwise very pale skin is noticeable, and Weaver keeps from grinning. When was the last time Weaver had blushed? It was a great question, because she can’t think of a time. She just wasn’t that sort of girl, blushing neither for a particular boy or a particular action, but she finds that she likes Maea all the more for being that type of girl. There is something infinitely sweet about it in a world that lacks sweetness. Sweet, and yet from a girl who could best an ursur.
”Aaah,” she says, an understanding sort of sound. ”He is rather the attractive sort,” she muses, but it’s clear in the way she says it that she means more than just looks and at the same time, that she’s not interested. She can see the appeal, but there would be no competition from Weaver, at any rate. ”I suspect he’s a tough one to love.” Her voice softens a bit, looking at Maea with something vaguely like understanding in her eyes. Not that she understood on a personal level, except that she was the sort that was hard to love.
Her brows raise just slightly at the mention of the bar, and her eyes sparkle. How much exactly did Maea know? A lot, she thinks, if Maea had indeed been seeing Sunjata. Pillow talk often divulged secrets. ”The Kraai,” she says, offering the name and confirming it. ”Soon, I think. Before Deepfrost. A few details to sort out and then I just need to get the place put together.” She pauses for a moment, waving her hands idly in the air and pulling a piece of fire toward her, clearly just for something to do and not so much to practice. She still likes the visual effect of using her hands. ”Hopefully you’ll stop by, at the very least, once it’s open?”
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
