in tenebris est veritas.
Her eyes dart to where his hands remain exposed, adjusting her stance as he nears. His keen eyes might see hers tilt with disbelief at his first statement, though perhaps this was not the first time he earned distrust for his uncanny behavior. A few moments of cautious silence pass between them. The dagger glints in the magma's warm glow. Chaele's wet hair sops darkly into her cloak and her bare feet grip precariously against the slick stone beneath them.
But eventually she relents. Further observation of him suggests that he could end her with or without the dagger, should he want to. And clearly he did not want to. She turns around, affixing the rest of her clothes from within the privacy of her cloak. When she turns back to him, the dagger is sheathed.
"You say you are passing through." Dark eyes flick down toward the creature at his side, suspicious. "But to what end?"
But eventually she relents. Further observation of him suggests that he could end her with or without the dagger, should he want to. And clearly he did not want to. She turns around, affixing the rest of her clothes from within the privacy of her cloak. When she turns back to him, the dagger is sheathed.
"You say you are passing through." Dark eyes flick down toward the creature at his side, suspicious. "But to what end?"
