Kenza
Ah- of course. Curiosity did kill the cat, after all. Hadameowma. Her smile is small, and fond, and slightly, slightly wicked, something in her subconscious wanting to let him know that she had been right. He wouldn't be able to just drop a mystery. And who knows, maybe he'd get burned again? And maybe he'd get rescued again?
But that's not right now. Hopefully not tomorrow either. Sort of self-consciously Kenza looks down to her fish basket, full of cold, smelly scales. Then, up to the merman. Nods slightly. Unsure how she found herself here. The past few minutes seem bizarre and unreal all of a sudden.
"Oh, it's no problem," she assures him. (And she hates it when this happens: she feels like a suddenly punctured balloon, or something rapidly thrust into cold water. The good, sunny feeling in her veins suddenly wrenched away, thrown off her stride, the flow and the vibe gone, just unpleasant uncertainty left to course through her)
Her eyes are drawn back to his arm again. "I imagine you'll want that taken care of." She's quiet, subdued, solemn, squatting down to grab her fish basket and hoisting it. The wooden boards of the jetty feel coarse and dangerous under her bare feet. "You should come by and have some hot chocolate sometime," she kind of blurts out, even though she doesn't know how that'd work. What were they gonna do, put him in a bathtub and carry him in?
But that's not right now. Hopefully not tomorrow either. Sort of self-consciously Kenza looks down to her fish basket, full of cold, smelly scales. Then, up to the merman. Nods slightly. Unsure how she found herself here. The past few minutes seem bizarre and unreal all of a sudden.
"Oh, it's no problem," she assures him. (And she hates it when this happens: she feels like a suddenly punctured balloon, or something rapidly thrust into cold water. The good, sunny feeling in her veins suddenly wrenched away, thrown off her stride, the flow and the vibe gone, just unpleasant uncertainty left to course through her)
Her eyes are drawn back to his arm again. "I imagine you'll want that taken care of." She's quiet, subdued, solemn, squatting down to grab her fish basket and hoisting it. The wooden boards of the jetty feel coarse and dangerous under her bare feet. "You should come by and have some hot chocolate sometime," she kind of blurts out, even though she doesn't know how that'd work. What were they gonna do, put him in a bathtub and carry him in?
