His answer is somewhat expected considering his prior comment, and her pale brows rise in abject curiosity. It is sated within a short time, and though the term itself is unfamiliar to her the magic that playfully dances the breeze through his hair is like a familiar friend. His control and comfort with his own magic is admirable, which makes it all the easier to appreciate the ease that loosens his shoulders and dark brow. "Your world is so different than mine was," she notes wistfully, almost wishing she could have seen his. "Were half-humans common, then? Or are you the product of a romantic connection like those in storybooks?" There's a glitter to her gaze, teasing and curious alike. Perhaps even something longing in her tone. She is admittedly a romantic in her heart of hearts, though she guards it more fiercely than any wolfmother. At least she can rejoice in the successful tales of others.
"It is, but to judge all Outlanders instead of evaluating each person for their soul..." she trails off with a slight shrug of her shoulders, still elegantly poised despite what could be considered the awkward ending of her sentence. Hotaru is certainly not capable of commanding them to give the Outlanders a chance, but she can think it privately. As she does with the consideration of his own garments, noting how he glances down at her dress - whether it's appreciation or merely avoiding sitting on it, she isn't sure. But she's not one to pass up a chance to offer her services. "Are these your hunting leathers? I own a seamstress shop in the Hollowed Grounds, would you be interested in letting me try out some winter garments on you?" A bold question considering some people are quite body-shy, and she doesn't even know if he lives in Torchline or is merely visiting as she is, but her fingers already flex in anticipation of a needle between them.
He is far newer to this land than she is, and a surprised noise hums in her throat without her permission. "It's quite an adjustment, and you were certainly thrown in at the most turbulent of times." Empathizing with the struggle he must have felt, she slowly spins the brim of her hat between her fingers, recalling her own entry to this world. Her constant lingering fear that another portal might tear her away at any given moment, unable to say her goodbyes or return to the small bit of family she has found here. Kellan's boldness does not even come close to bothering her, so used to Deimos' blunt nature. Tucking her hair behind her ear she reclines slightly into the shade the cathedral offers, crossing her ankles in the sand. "Oh, no. I'm not quite sure what place I call home these days...I have my shop in the Grounds, a Guild I belong to here in Haulani, and Halo is so similar to the kingdom I ruled..." Wistfulness pulls at her vocals, gaze distant and conflicted. She still has no idea where she belongs, or if she ever can again. Not after witnessing the destruction of her kingdom, her people, her entire world. And she is constantly being pulled so many ways - to Halo's snowy reaches, a mimicry of the only home she has ever know. To the Hollowed Grounds, where Deimos, Kiada, and Rexanna reside. To Torchline, where Sunjata and the Advocates lie. Shaking her head to disperse those questions, she looks up from lowered lashes to give an apologetic glance at the man beside her, the heat of his skin radiating against her own. "Sorry, that was rather maudlin of me, no need to burden you with such things. What about you? Do you call Haulani home?" Or, like her, is it merely a place to live?
"It is, but to judge all Outlanders instead of evaluating each person for their soul..." she trails off with a slight shrug of her shoulders, still elegantly poised despite what could be considered the awkward ending of her sentence. Hotaru is certainly not capable of commanding them to give the Outlanders a chance, but she can think it privately. As she does with the consideration of his own garments, noting how he glances down at her dress - whether it's appreciation or merely avoiding sitting on it, she isn't sure. But she's not one to pass up a chance to offer her services. "Are these your hunting leathers? I own a seamstress shop in the Hollowed Grounds, would you be interested in letting me try out some winter garments on you?" A bold question considering some people are quite body-shy, and she doesn't even know if he lives in Torchline or is merely visiting as she is, but her fingers already flex in anticipation of a needle between them.
He is far newer to this land than she is, and a surprised noise hums in her throat without her permission. "It's quite an adjustment, and you were certainly thrown in at the most turbulent of times." Empathizing with the struggle he must have felt, she slowly spins the brim of her hat between her fingers, recalling her own entry to this world. Her constant lingering fear that another portal might tear her away at any given moment, unable to say her goodbyes or return to the small bit of family she has found here. Kellan's boldness does not even come close to bothering her, so used to Deimos' blunt nature. Tucking her hair behind her ear she reclines slightly into the shade the cathedral offers, crossing her ankles in the sand. "Oh, no. I'm not quite sure what place I call home these days...I have my shop in the Grounds, a Guild I belong to here in Haulani, and Halo is so similar to the kingdom I ruled..." Wistfulness pulls at her vocals, gaze distant and conflicted. She still has no idea where she belongs, or if she ever can again. Not after witnessing the destruction of her kingdom, her people, her entire world. And she is constantly being pulled so many ways - to Halo's snowy reaches, a mimicry of the only home she has ever know. To the Hollowed Grounds, where Deimos, Kiada, and Rexanna reside. To Torchline, where Sunjata and the Advocates lie. Shaking her head to disperse those questions, she looks up from lowered lashes to give an apologetic glance at the man beside her, the heat of his skin radiating against her own. "Sorry, that was rather maudlin of me, no need to burden you with such things. What about you? Do you call Haulani home?" Or, like her, is it merely a place to live?
Hotaru
