Only Close My Eyes To Blink

My head shakes when I sleep too long, And my mom cries when I sing this song

She was given a lot to think about, more than she'd really expected when she'd first set out. Goddesses and illnesses and more, so much more than she'd expected, than she'd thought about. Perhaps her plans to travel should wait a touch longer, until she can be sure she's entirely ready. Learning that the dangers of the place don't necessarily taint it's people has her realxing a touch again, not quite enough to look fully at ease, but enough that what lingers can be hidden by a long sip at her mug, the spices warming her as much as the cider itself did.

The offer, the expression that came with it, nearly has Hester choking on her sip, though any embarrassment from that is very quickly wiped out by the excitement that rises in her, stars sparkling in her eyes when she recovers and looks up at Morgan. There was no higher honour, no offer she would leap on fast, but "I don't have my swords with me." There's a disappointed huff with the words, though it doesn't budge the bright look on her face. "Could I... maybe come back? When you're not busy, of course, I don't want to impose, but... I'd love to spar with you." She prays silently, to any God who might be listening, that this isn't a time sensitive offer, that she hasn't locked herself out of an experience.

Hester