Osozo
"Shop and books?" The repetition was soft, quietly interested, in a distant kind of way, but trampled over by the haste to answer the next question from Sam. "I haven't decided yet." Osozo declared boldly, hands on hips and hair flaring a sharp red for a moment. "I don't know how much I want to be known yet. Perhaps I'll never change it. Perhaps it will be new tomorrow." A shrug then, uncaring and uninvolved in the topic as suddenly as their interest was piqued.
Conversely to Sam's thoughts, the thought of being first did not weigh on Osozo at all, no sense of obligation or urge to do things perfectly. They were the first opportunity to grow from, and they intended to leave big shoes to fill. "What kind of books do you make? What goes into them?" Osozo tilted their head, fist coming up to rest gently under their chin.
"I know some about the portals. Have you been to the places beyond them? The snow, and trees, and desert?" This was perhaps the part of their knowledge that they were most interested to see firsthand, the parts that had been opened up newly.
Conversely to Sam's thoughts, the thought of being first did not weigh on Osozo at all, no sense of obligation or urge to do things perfectly. They were the first opportunity to grow from, and they intended to leave big shoes to fill. "What kind of books do you make? What goes into them?" Osozo tilted their head, fist coming up to rest gently under their chin.
"I know some about the portals. Have you been to the places beyond them? The snow, and trees, and desert?" This was perhaps the part of their knowledge that they were most interested to see firsthand, the parts that had been opened up newly.
H I G H F U N C T I O N I N G F L E S H
