Isla
Time absolutely would tell, and given how longlived Isla is likely to be, she'll be around to see it as well. She notices Morgen's eyes on her, and something about his gaze makes the predator in her want to stare right back, to rake across his soul from the inside out to get the measure of him. But of course she doesn't; there isn't much of a predator left in her, to be frank. There isn't much of anything left in her.
Luckily, his embarrassment serves to break the ice (whatever is forming, anyway), and Isla hides a laugh behind her hand and heads down the embankment after him. It's true that her footing is sure, reminiscent of someone used to clambering over rough ground, and such was true even before Caido. And so, as they come to the camp - and it must be, because there is a campfire - Isla is left wondering what Morgen does when it rains. Or snows. Or is even slightly windy.
"It's nice," is what she says instead, glancing at their surroundings. "So this is you?"
Luckily, his embarrassment serves to break the ice (whatever is forming, anyway), and Isla hides a laugh behind her hand and heads down the embankment after him. It's true that her footing is sure, reminiscent of someone used to clambering over rough ground, and such was true even before Caido. And so, as they come to the camp - and it must be, because there is a campfire - Isla is left wondering what Morgen does when it rains. Or snows. Or is even slightly windy.
"It's nice," is what she says instead, glancing at their surroundings. "So this is you?"
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard
When you hit me, hit me hard
