Safrin
"Indeed there are." Reluctantly perhaps, Safrin's hands slip from Ronin's shoulders, though her smile doesn't fade. "Please." She says of the tea. "I'm dying to see how it tastes." Said while peering deeply into the Huntsman's eyes—her Huntsman, whatever Remi might say or think about it—Safrin nods before fanning out the lace of her dress in a curtsy, and revealing slender star-white skin beneath.
Sitting down, her delicate fingers wrapped around the teacup, it's a shockingly mundane end to their conversation. But, as we've said, at least no one was cursed or blackmailed.
~FIN
Sitting down, her delicate fingers wrapped around the teacup, it's a shockingly mundane end to their conversation. But, as we've said, at least no one was cursed or blackmailed.
~FIN
