Anju
Physical closeness is not something Anju is accustomed to. Her parents had been quite loving but respectful of Anju's keen desire for personal space even before her teenage years, and the skinship that often came alongside Dragoons better fit descriptors like rowdy and circumstantial. Even the small motion of his thumb along the back of her hand is enough to make it hard to breathe. Not flustered, mind you, but keenly aware of all the ways it could be construed. Which she isn't, because she is - no, was - his superior, and she is not the type to receive (much less feel) anything like interest.
His commentary pulls her out of it, and she clears her throat softly beneath his words, discarding the inklings of curiosity entirely. "It's a brilliant idea for the Wilds perhaps. Or as an employable militia for other regions lacking in organized fighters, or with unrest to tame." Her voice, already so naturally blunt, comes across as definitive with how she disagrees. "If he was already approaching the previous leader here, then I really do have to get home. Gods know what he's been doing in my absence." Sitting up, driven by the conviction of this idea, her vision swims and she sways sideways with a faint groan when her body resists liberally. Beneath the nausea, chill sets into her chest, unable to stop envisioning the sand slipping through the hourglass marking how long she has been away. Too long for sure, and wasting further away with every moment.
His commentary pulls her out of it, and she clears her throat softly beneath his words, discarding the inklings of curiosity entirely. "It's a brilliant idea for the Wilds perhaps. Or as an employable militia for other regions lacking in organized fighters, or with unrest to tame." Her voice, already so naturally blunt, comes across as definitive with how she disagrees. "If he was already approaching the previous leader here, then I really do have to get home. Gods know what he's been doing in my absence." Sitting up, driven by the conviction of this idea, her vision swims and she sways sideways with a faint groan when her body resists liberally. Beneath the nausea, chill sets into her chest, unable to stop envisioning the sand slipping through the hourglass marking how long she has been away. Too long for sure, and wasting further away with every moment.
this sun inside of me could set kingdoms ablaze
