WEAVER
Weaver nods slightly at the mention of a neighboring country. Apparently some of the different worlds out there were not so big. ”What was your home like?” she asks, wondering if Kiada had grown up there as well. She says only that her father was Dorobian, though nothing of herself, so Weaver waits to see what the girl might say.
Weaver tugs at the shoulder of her shirt, turning slightly to reveal the top of a raven wing. ”My mother’s companion was a raven. It seems to have stuck with us.” Korbin had become a raven, and Weaver simply carried them with her. Though as a soft smile spreads on Kiada’s face, and the next comment given with a wink, Weaver gives her a curious raise of the brow, something knowing and suspicious in that. ”Oh?” she says, half a question, though not prying.
A chuckle escapes her at the mention of a sweet tooth. ”As do I, but not when it comes to my booze. Still, I can oblige.” She goes to grab a few bottles. Chocolate liquor, some creme de cacao (the Palace chefs were easily bribed with the promise of free drinks), and the vodka she’d infused with peppermint.
She begins to pour, using a small triangular-like tool to measure. ”A good drink requires good booze. Whoever says you mix the crappy stuff is dead wrong. It should never be too sweet, even for us sweet tooth types, or then no one wants a second. And though it’s full of alcohol, it shouldn’t taste like drinking something straight, because again, no one would want a second.” She pours everything into a metal cup with ice, sticking another on top, and begins to shake. She grabs a glass, stemmed with an inverted cone-like bow, pouring the drink through a strainer to leave behind the ice. She swirls a bit of liquid chocolate into the top, and slides it over to Kiada. ”And it should always look pretty.” Weaver chuckles, putting the bottles away and grabbing some for her own drink.
Weaver tugs at the shoulder of her shirt, turning slightly to reveal the top of a raven wing. ”My mother’s companion was a raven. It seems to have stuck with us.” Korbin had become a raven, and Weaver simply carried them with her. Though as a soft smile spreads on Kiada’s face, and the next comment given with a wink, Weaver gives her a curious raise of the brow, something knowing and suspicious in that. ”Oh?” she says, half a question, though not prying.
A chuckle escapes her at the mention of a sweet tooth. ”As do I, but not when it comes to my booze. Still, I can oblige.” She goes to grab a few bottles. Chocolate liquor, some creme de cacao (the Palace chefs were easily bribed with the promise of free drinks), and the vodka she’d infused with peppermint.
She begins to pour, using a small triangular-like tool to measure. ”A good drink requires good booze. Whoever says you mix the crappy stuff is dead wrong. It should never be too sweet, even for us sweet tooth types, or then no one wants a second. And though it’s full of alcohol, it shouldn’t taste like drinking something straight, because again, no one would want a second.” She pours everything into a metal cup with ice, sticking another on top, and begins to shake. She grabs a glass, stemmed with an inverted cone-like bow, pouring the drink through a strainer to leave behind the ice. She swirls a bit of liquid chocolate into the top, and slides it over to Kiada. ”And it should always look pretty.” Weaver chuckles, putting the bottles away and grabbing some for her own drink.
I was made to be wild, wicked, and free
