[se] different tomorrows

EVIE

Like an eddy around a stone, his solidity is something she moves with and around with ease, accustomed to the rhythm of their friendship even after seasons apart. Drying her hands, the towel is twisted idly even after the skin beneath it is dry, carrying it with her mindlessly as she thinks back on the events of the previous day. A hum of assent is all she needs to confirm she’d like the extra mug he places down, and only then does she set her hands on the counter, towel trapped beneath one hand. Evie can almost feel his worry as it begins to rise, and so she shoots a slightly tired smile his way to stall it a moment more. Her cheek rests against the curve of her own shoulder, arms braced against the counter as she uses the time to stretch out her sore muscles.

“The short version is a small group including myself had to kill a landshark as big as a dragon,” she chuckles, having no better estimate of size off the top of her head. “We won, no casualties, but it was a close thing - annoyingly so. I don’t know if you’ve ever met him, I only have once, but a man named Darkeye was there. He was badly injured but wouldn’t stop charging in long enough for me to heal him.” Which had been a vice of terror in her heart, accustomed to always claiming responsibility for those who couldn’t be healed or saved. “But I did get to ride its fin successfully,” she boasts, expression turning playfully sly and superior.

Don't look up, just let them think
There's no place else you'd rather be