EVIE
like love is a bad word
Evie grins in answer to the winsome one he shoots her way, nearly overlooking his fangs with how familiar to her they are on Sam. His humor makes her titter in appreciation, even as her cheeks pink a little. No matter how bold she gets, there will always be vestiges of remnants from her upbringing, her mother's chiding voice and scandalized expression always lingering. It didn't exactly help that she wasn't experienced, but she could find it amusing on someone else's tongue. "Oh so you're not usually the type to get your hands dirty?" A playful grin, a gesture with a dainty hand to the stirred up soil, content to banter. Evie had not involved herself in the planting, too intimidated by her cursed status to even wander down to the Shrine, but she knows what they are. Their godly luminescence cannot be overlooked, nor can their preternatural hardiness. She'd be a shit apothecarist if she couldn't figure out something just by those traits alone. A frown pulls on her lips, turning her gaze outward to the horizon with a sigh. "Yeah, that's Caido for you. Wouldn't be the same if someone wasn't trying to kill you at all hours." Evie is certainly no fighter, so she dreads the day it happens to her, but at least the man seems hardy enough to take whatever is thrown his way. Probably literally and metaphorically.
