Can I….help you with anything else?
It’s a good question. Why had she stopped to say hello to a perfect stranger? Honestly, she didn’t have a good reason why. She didn’t even know what he did or what he was, let alone what he might be able to help her with. “Honestly?” she says, with a quirk of an eyebrow and a slightly amused look, “I’m just scouting for information. I’m from Halo,” she adds, as if this explains everything. To most it probably would. She suspects all but the newest or most secluded of people knew that Halo had been trapped in it’s own little bubble up until recently. Some wouldn’t know, and she would elaborate if needed, but she didn’t bother at the moment.
“What kind of shop do you have?” she asks, because that seems like an easy place to start. Something familiar and comfortable for him, probably anyway. It’d be like asking her what she does most days, if you care to learn about making traps and not freezing to death. It was easy for her to talk about such things, not that she really struggled to talk. Weaver was full of plenty of bravado and bluster, after all.
“I’m Weaver, by the way.” she adds, making sure she doesn’t accidentally rest her hand on a knife instead of her hip. She wasn’t trying to give him the wrong impression. This was a friend making, not enemy making, sort of day. At least, that was the goal. Who knew what the actual outcome would be.
It’s a good question. Why had she stopped to say hello to a perfect stranger? Honestly, she didn’t have a good reason why. She didn’t even know what he did or what he was, let alone what he might be able to help her with. “Honestly?” she says, with a quirk of an eyebrow and a slightly amused look, “I’m just scouting for information. I’m from Halo,” she adds, as if this explains everything. To most it probably would. She suspects all but the newest or most secluded of people knew that Halo had been trapped in it’s own little bubble up until recently. Some wouldn’t know, and she would elaborate if needed, but she didn’t bother at the moment.
“What kind of shop do you have?” she asks, because that seems like an easy place to start. Something familiar and comfortable for him, probably anyway. It’d be like asking her what she does most days, if you care to learn about making traps and not freezing to death. It was easy for her to talk about such things, not that she really struggled to talk. Weaver was full of plenty of bravado and bluster, after all.
“I’m Weaver, by the way.” she adds, making sure she doesn’t accidentally rest her hand on a knife instead of her hip. She wasn’t trying to give him the wrong impression. This was a friend making, not enemy making, sort of day. At least, that was the goal. Who knew what the actual outcome would be.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
