Isla
"How sweet." Isla grins at the box, even if she still has no more of an idea about what's in it than before. Still, she might be a curious person but she's also an ex-duchess, knowing better than to pry. Instead, she offers Sunjata a gentle bow of the head. "In that case, a belated congratulations to the both of you. I hope that you enjoy the reception." She had already been a unicorn when the Taliesins got married; it's a guilty truth, but she can barely remember it now.
Luckily, Sunjata rescues her from becoming too melancholy, talking of lighter things (even if that's not something she expects from scars). "Oh I see," she murmurs, her feet taking her around the clinic by now on autopilot, examining the similarities and differences to her own infirmary. "Surviving a lightning strike is pretty impressive all on its own. I think you've filled your scar quota for one lifetime."
Luckily, Sunjata rescues her from becoming too melancholy, talking of lighter things (even if that's not something she expects from scars). "Oh I see," she murmurs, her feet taking her around the clinic by now on autopilot, examining the similarities and differences to her own infirmary. "Surviving a lightning strike is pretty impressive all on its own. I think you've filled your scar quota for one lifetime."
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight
we're always running scared but holding knives
we're always running scared but holding knives
