Flora
"Oh!" Yeilding easily to the pressure of Maeve's hand against her back, Flora shuffles forward, mindful of the jagged stones beneath her feet. In the weeks and months to come the girl would learn to walk with easy on Torchline's various surfaces, but just now she's used to moss and mulch that soak up her movements such that moves not unlike a newborn fawn on the shoreline. "Hello." She says again, kneeling slightly to reach out for Hadama's hand. Her expectation is that it will be slimy and cold, and though she's not entirely wrong about it, his grip doesn't feel quite so foreign as she had originally anticipated.
"I'm from the Greatwood." Flora answers, holding onto the mermanta's hand just a second or two longer than she probably ought to have if only because of how wonderfully interesting he looked. "We don't have anything like you there. Err—" Flushing, she lets go of his fingers and straightens. "Not that you're a...I mean, not that you aren't, like, your own person. Well, not a person, but.." Trailing off, Flora flashes a pleading look at Maeve over her shoulder.
"I'm from the Greatwood." Flora answers, holding onto the mermanta's hand just a second or two longer than she probably ought to have if only because of how wonderfully interesting he looked. "We don't have anything like you there. Err—" Flushing, she lets go of his fingers and straightens. "Not that you're a...I mean, not that you aren't, like, your own person. Well, not a person, but.." Trailing off, Flora flashes a pleading look at Maeve over her shoulder.
