if it doesn't burn a little
Weaver’s eyebrow raises just slightly at the pointed weapon, though it seems to be more of an extension of the woman’s arm than anything else. Still, she is aware, even if not on edge about it. ”It may have,” she says with a shrug, unable to say where the luxure came from. But if people could wander through the portals, who is to say creatures could not do the same. There is the possibility someone sent it through, though Weaver has no idea who might do such a thing. It is certainly possible. ”Though I feel like a magical forest would have some level of fire resistance. I suppose that’s just wishful thinking though.” Honestly, she knows almost nothing of the Greatwood (as the Fae like it), and she doesn’t mind letting her ignorance show.
The other woman does not judge at the idea of running from a dragon, and Weaver appreciates the common sense. Though most Caido Naturals had a little more common sense than their Outlander counterparts, it would seem. Not that she hasn’t run across some Naturals just as keen on trying to take down things that are better left alone. ”I take it you are a hunter?” She says, guessing, though it’s not really much of a stretch. The weapon, the way she seems to understand the idea of hunting. ”What sort of creatures does the Greatwood have?” she adds, curious about the Fae’s home.
”I’m Weaver, by the way.” she adds after a moment’s pause, realizing they had never actually bothered with names. Not that Weaver cares about pleasantries - they are not required - but names can be a useful thing.
The other woman does not judge at the idea of running from a dragon, and Weaver appreciates the common sense. Though most Caido Naturals had a little more common sense than their Outlander counterparts, it would seem. Not that she hasn’t run across some Naturals just as keen on trying to take down things that are better left alone. ”I take it you are a hunter?” She says, guessing, though it’s not really much of a stretch. The weapon, the way she seems to understand the idea of hunting. ”What sort of creatures does the Greatwood have?” she adds, curious about the Fae’s home.
”I’m Weaver, by the way.” she adds after a moment’s pause, realizing they had never actually bothered with names. Not that Weaver cares about pleasantries - they are not required - but names can be a useful thing.
-- weaver
then what's the point in playing with fire?
