Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away
"Perhaps they just didn't have a need to?" she suggested. The impressed tone made her shift, a little abashed... had it really been that strange of a thing to do? She had thought of it, so she did it. Maea couldn't think of it as something... admirable.
The offered knife made her blink. It was bloody and sharp, already put to use as evidenced by the crimson stains and the dying fish on the ground; it contrasted sharply with the dazzling smile, and made her think of landsharks. Of dagger fights. Of being held close to a broad chest while she pointed a wooden blade into the back of... " - Alright."
She took the knife, interrupting her own traiturous thoughts. Shying not at all from the slick blood that flecked the handle. "Tell me what to do."
The offered knife made her blink. It was bloody and sharp, already put to use as evidenced by the crimson stains and the dying fish on the ground; it contrasted sharply with the dazzling smile, and made her think of landsharks. Of dagger fights. Of being held close to a broad chest while she pointed a wooden blade into the back of... " - Alright."
She took the knife, interrupting her own traiturous thoughts. Shying not at all from the slick blood that flecked the handle. "Tell me what to do."
