Just as she was planning her escape, the man spoke again. She slowed, and looked up. ”No need to apologize. I didn't mean to salt the wound.” She said softly. The words of this language still felt strange - the tone of her native language was low and lilting in a way that didn’t work with the sounds of this language. She could tell from his speech that she must be speaking this language with an accent. It still astounded her that sudden knowledge of a new language was even possible. ”And I’m sorry.” She hated giving apologies, but she knew she owed one. She would not go so far as to explain exactly why she was sorry, that would hurt her ego too much, and she figured it was clear enough.
Her head tilted to the side in curiosity. ”Long night?” She asked, the spark of interest lit. Colder was a concern and she figured she ought to be worried, but she was the walking definition of ‘curiosity killed the cat’. ”What’s that?”
Tala
there's a world that was meant for us to see
