She can’t help but laugh as he politely asks the bird to jump onto her arm. The laugh is quiet, contained, though it’s clear it would be a loud and wild thing like the girl it comes from if she didn’t stop herself. She doesn’t want to startle the Hel though and have it fly away too early. Maybe his magic would keep the bird from startling, but based on his next sentence, she assumes at some point it’s going to get sick of her and leave her to drown. Might as well not have that happen too soon.
”So stick to the shallows, got it,” she says with a grin, taking a hesitant step into the water. Her feet don’t sink, and her face lights with a childlike glee. It’s a version of Weaver that’s not often seen, the version of Weaver that belongs to her brothers. Well, brother, now. Though Remi, in some small way, reminds her of Erebor, and maybe that is why he so easily finds her childhood self. ”I do think I’d like to pass on being dinner for sea monsters today, if possible.”
Weaver follows, refusing to look back at the shore that creeps farther away, though she is keenly aware of all the water around her and the fact she doesn’t know this man. Maybe he’s trying to feed her to a pet sea monster. It’s possible. Yet she can’t help but venture out after him, tempted by his bravery and the sheer joy of walking on water. Most days she found herself thankful for the ability to leave Halo, but today of all days, she is overly thrilled. ”Do you do this often?” she asks, toes wiggling in the waves a bit, enjoying the impossible feel of it beneath her.
”So stick to the shallows, got it,” she says with a grin, taking a hesitant step into the water. Her feet don’t sink, and her face lights with a childlike glee. It’s a version of Weaver that’s not often seen, the version of Weaver that belongs to her brothers. Well, brother, now. Though Remi, in some small way, reminds her of Erebor, and maybe that is why he so easily finds her childhood self. ”I do think I’d like to pass on being dinner for sea monsters today, if possible.”
Weaver follows, refusing to look back at the shore that creeps farther away, though she is keenly aware of all the water around her and the fact she doesn’t know this man. Maybe he’s trying to feed her to a pet sea monster. It’s possible. Yet she can’t help but venture out after him, tempted by his bravery and the sheer joy of walking on water. Most days she found herself thankful for the ability to leave Halo, but today of all days, she is overly thrilled. ”Do you do this often?” she asks, toes wiggling in the waves a bit, enjoying the impossible feel of it beneath her.
weaver
-- kiss you like a whiskey fire --
