EVIE
I want your midnights
All other discussion seems less important than what she tries so desperately to impart. Not a forced lesson, but a seed; something she can help him nurture, can guide his hands in the soil and teach him the best times to water and weed, and watch as he grows it himself. She knows there is history in his past that she can never relate to, just as she has her own of the same. But hope, patience, faith - in something more than heralds and gods - those are things Evie can share with him, and hopes to. Perhaps there are still a few small things of good that she can impart upon him, things she can arm him with instead of her general goal of simply making him happy. "It's a skill like any other, it has to be trained," she agrees, voice delicate and hushed even as she smiles encouragingly, glad he had not taken offense to her good intentions and spirited opinion. "By doing things exactly like this; planning what we might do in the days after." Things both grand and meaningless. Feeding ducks or changing opinions on an entire race. What could they not achieve together?
His answers this time are more detailed, more long-term, and Evie brightens to hear them. Only just barely remembering that she has a task at hand, and turning back to mash the potatoes with stubborn force and hard-won muscle in her arms. "I'd like to change Abandoned sentiment too, but if I can't in my lifetime, I'd at least like to teach people how to use it. Maybe create a buddy system with Accepted, so that the heralds have less choice in seeing us," she admits, somewhat blasphemously, and can't help but stifle a laugh into her own shoulder at the idea. Envisioning Safrin arriving in a shower of dramatics and light or Ludo in playful pitches and games, summoned by an Accepted's prayer, only to wither and glare at the sight of an accompanying Abandoned beside them like a particularly stubborn parasite. It would be like a symbiotic relationship in the wilds, would it not?
