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Evie
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Belial’s eager company diverts her attention, allowing Deimos his privacy with his first and oldest companion. Her stained hands playfully pat and pet in alternating rhythms whenever he is close enough to do so, which requires quite a good amount of focus as she also has to concentrate on not tripping over the playful carnivore as they walk. It doesn’t prevent her from looking up at the lightening tone she hears, lips twitching unbidden at the sound of it. “At the rate I’m sure she has to step in she deserves a full vacation.” Though from her experience with the unicorn Evie is certain it’s entirely voluntary. Zuriel has never allowed herself to be bossed or commanded.
His pace is militaristic, but hers is just as swift for entirely opposite reasons; the Grounds hadn’t always had an infirmary, and Evie has more than her fair share of years beneath her belt spent running to make it in time for a patient. Even the slower life of the Wilds couldn’t take away such ingrained muscle memory. “I would, thank you. The more hands the better if I’m to get it up and running as quickly as possible.” The recruits would be similarly helpful if he deigned to bring them, but Evie wouldn’t mind tackling the job just between the two of them. Checking into a room and storing her bags is a simple affair, if dull. Moments like these, despite her loneliness, she’s grateful she has no companion or large items she would otherwise be forced to accommodate in the relatively small room. As she’s setting down her last bag her stomach rumbles loudly, and Evie’s face flames as a hand rises to settle over it. Laughing self-consciously, she turns on her heel to look sheepishly up at Deimos. “I guess the fruit wasn’t enough. Want to get dinner?” Unless he tired of her company already. don't let one be you |
Table made by Sky!
