Isla
"Mm... I can imagine." It's already starting to go that way now, Isla realises, though without the golden years that preceded it in Varus's time, it doesn't sting so much. "Has she?" she murmurs of the Voice, finding a smile creeping across her face to hear it; there's something incredibly reassuring about that, to know that their lady has remained unchanged in her ideals and goals for all this time.
Regrettably, Isla is not so engrossed in thoughts about their goddess to miss Varus faceplanting the sand. No, she sees the whole thing, snorting in a very unladylike fashion and trying to stay focused on the sea glass she's fishing out of the water. "Mmhm," she manages, rising to her feet to show him the smooth triangle of green glass in her palm. "You okay?" she asks, reaching up with her free hand to help wipe the sand off his face.
Regrettably, Isla is not so engrossed in thoughts about their goddess to miss Varus faceplanting the sand. No, she sees the whole thing, snorting in a very unladylike fashion and trying to stay focused on the sea glass she's fishing out of the water. "Mmhm," she manages, rising to her feet to show him the smooth triangle of green glass in her palm. "You okay?" she asks, reaching up with her free hand to help wipe the sand off his face.
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight
we're always running scared but holding knives
we're always running scared but holding knives
