Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck
A soft hum of acknowledgement was all she offered, content to respect the need for silence as they crossed the city in search for shelter. It was a quick walk, and she was grateful for it. Even as they slipped inside she could feel the rise in temperature dull the responsiveness of her body like a weight settled across the shoulders. Being outside for long would be downright dangerous; the reason why she had holed up in the Fingers, last time she made this region a temporary home.
The house they entered was simple yet filled all the basic needs. She passed the time taking in the details - the absence of a woman's fussy touch - while Harper saw to his son, and considered herself entertained with seeing something that wasn't already familiar. Maea's mouth quirked aside in a smile as she turned towards her friend - the word tasted novel and pleasant even in her own mind - and shook her head slightly at the expression on his face.
"I'm staying with my brother, currently, in his pottery studio. Meant for one, but since neither of us sleep, it works. Compared to that, this is a palace."
Turning towards him as he finished up, she blinked at the offer. Surprise widened her eyes, and a dark flush crept over her cheeks. A glance out a window revealed the sun to be well on the way towards rising now; not good for her in normal circumstances. But shifted... "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I've never tried. Are - are you sure you want to offer that? Bites come with... side effects. As you probably already know." And he was married, wasn't he? Runaway wife or no.
And she tried - really tried - to shove the memory of a dying Fae from her mind, because she did not want to dwell on the way death and ecstasy had mingled. Not in this place. Not if it meant Nephele's face might swap for his, even for an instant.
The house they entered was simple yet filled all the basic needs. She passed the time taking in the details - the absence of a woman's fussy touch - while Harper saw to his son, and considered herself entertained with seeing something that wasn't already familiar. Maea's mouth quirked aside in a smile as she turned towards her friend - the word tasted novel and pleasant even in her own mind - and shook her head slightly at the expression on his face.
"I'm staying with my brother, currently, in his pottery studio. Meant for one, but since neither of us sleep, it works. Compared to that, this is a palace."
Turning towards him as he finished up, she blinked at the offer. Surprise widened her eyes, and a dark flush crept over her cheeks. A glance out a window revealed the sun to be well on the way towards rising now; not good for her in normal circumstances. But shifted... "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I've never tried. Are - are you sure you want to offer that? Bites come with... side effects. As you probably already know." And he was married, wasn't he? Runaway wife or no.
And she tried - really tried - to shove the memory of a dying Fae from her mind, because she did not want to dwell on the way death and ecstasy had mingled. Not in this place. Not if it meant Nephele's face might swap for his, even for an instant.
Maea
