She listened to Jigano’s story about the Outlanders and remained attentive through it. She suspected that he wouldn’t give such free information commonly, so she wouldn’t waste it by brushing it aside.
It was an interesting thought… If the Naturals and Outlanders could learn to coexist within the bubble, would it be at all possible for them to mingle and coexist with the Fae? Was that a real possibility, or was it some kind of pie in the sky dream a child would believe? It was at least worth thinking about…
He mentioned that the people had been trapped for three hundred years and made a fair point about contact. There really was no way to contact her people, but it was like that for a reason: the Fae don’t like being contacted! That didn’t mean the new people had any right to invade their home, though. However, it seemed all they were seeking was a way to make sense of the brand new world that was opened to them. Though, she supposed with the forest constantly turning them around, it wasn’t very open to them at all.
Eliza felt the sorrow within the man, the concern for the safety of his friends, and when he asked his question, she couldn’t help the way she fell silent. Her eyes were cast downward for a moment, but slowly, she moved so she was crouching on the branch, then jumped up and flew to the branch that he was sitting on. The limb hardly moved as she landed on it with an airy way about her.
Once again, she lowered herself to sit on the branch, facing him where he was. “They would be taken to the Fae village,” she said quietly, “and be thrown into the thirty-foot pit. Of those that go in, there are few who come out of the pit.” Her voice was solemn, hinting that there really wasn’t a high chance that they would return to him. “The war chief is one of the less understanding of us. If they do not anger her, perhaps they have a chance of survival.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked up at him, letting him process her words and hoping to see just how he would process it. “Who are you really?” Eliza finally asked, her fingers tapping her temple followed by her heart, and her tone conveying something much deeper than what his name and profession are. She wanted to know him, wanted to know if she could trust what he was saying, what he was feeling - or at least showing her that he’s feeling. These people could lie, and the Fae could not. She couldn’t help but ask.
It was an interesting thought… If the Naturals and Outlanders could learn to coexist within the bubble, would it be at all possible for them to mingle and coexist with the Fae? Was that a real possibility, or was it some kind of pie in the sky dream a child would believe? It was at least worth thinking about…
He mentioned that the people had been trapped for three hundred years and made a fair point about contact. There really was no way to contact her people, but it was like that for a reason: the Fae don’t like being contacted! That didn’t mean the new people had any right to invade their home, though. However, it seemed all they were seeking was a way to make sense of the brand new world that was opened to them. Though, she supposed with the forest constantly turning them around, it wasn’t very open to them at all.
Eliza felt the sorrow within the man, the concern for the safety of his friends, and when he asked his question, she couldn’t help the way she fell silent. Her eyes were cast downward for a moment, but slowly, she moved so she was crouching on the branch, then jumped up and flew to the branch that he was sitting on. The limb hardly moved as she landed on it with an airy way about her.
Once again, she lowered herself to sit on the branch, facing him where he was. “They would be taken to the Fae village,” she said quietly, “and be thrown into the thirty-foot pit. Of those that go in, there are few who come out of the pit.” Her voice was solemn, hinting that there really wasn’t a high chance that they would return to him. “The war chief is one of the less understanding of us. If they do not anger her, perhaps they have a chance of survival.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked up at him, letting him process her words and hoping to see just how he would process it. “Who are you really?” Eliza finally asked, her fingers tapping her temple followed by her heart, and her tone conveying something much deeper than what his name and profession are. She wanted to know him, wanted to know if she could trust what he was saying, what he was feeling - or at least showing her that he’s feeling. These people could lie, and the Fae could not. She couldn’t help but ask.
