03-21-2020, 09:06 PM
Her gaze followed the line his took, but she didn’t answer the question. The world reordered and Nimeda did nothing to stop it, nor much noticed its reconstruction to something more orderly. He flickered a little as he moved away, but beyond that the stranger showed no signs of dissipating back to his own dream. Usually they did by now. Her head tilted, openly curious in her inspection. He was not like Jon, assuming her a child beyond her depths and eager to protect her from a world more hers than his anyway. Nor like Mara, a dear sister, akin to another vein in the artery of the same hand -- and somehow intrinsic to this world. He was not of the wolves and he was neither an old thing, but new and shiny as his white clothes.
She blinked.
Something of his droll, forthright nature reminded her a little of… her expression crinkled, palms clenching and unfolding, but she never allowed herself to finish the thought. Instead she plodded after him. He had something of a soothing manner, she decided, even if he sounded marginally irritated every time he spoke. “You sound like a king,” she observed abruptly. A bright smile would accompany if he happened to look in her direction, but otherwise she was only watching him like a child might watch an insect crawling along the tip of her finger.
Safer? “Dangerous because of you, not because of them,” she said, amused. Tristan’s ignorance amused her in the same way, and at the trickle of that thought eagerness eclipsed what remained of her lingering fears. She had promised to show the wolf brother all her favourite places in this world, but she had not seen him since; unsurprising given the great creature that watched over him and warned her away. Nim always sought connection. Perhaps if this one was going to disappear he would have done so already.
His hands were thrust in his pockets, and somewhere like a heavy stone resting at the bottom of a pool she recalled Grim’s rejection of her uninvited touch. Rather than tug his hands into hers like an excited child she held her own palms out to him, forgetting the brand upon one. Her features were open and eager. But where to take him?
She blinked.
Something of his droll, forthright nature reminded her a little of… her expression crinkled, palms clenching and unfolding, but she never allowed herself to finish the thought. Instead she plodded after him. He had something of a soothing manner, she decided, even if he sounded marginally irritated every time he spoke. “You sound like a king,” she observed abruptly. A bright smile would accompany if he happened to look in her direction, but otherwise she was only watching him like a child might watch an insect crawling along the tip of her finger.
Safer? “Dangerous because of you, not because of them,” she said, amused. Tristan’s ignorance amused her in the same way, and at the trickle of that thought eagerness eclipsed what remained of her lingering fears. She had promised to show the wolf brother all her favourite places in this world, but she had not seen him since; unsurprising given the great creature that watched over him and warned her away. Nim always sought connection. Perhaps if this one was going to disappear he would have done so already.
His hands were thrust in his pockets, and somewhere like a heavy stone resting at the bottom of a pool she recalled Grim’s rejection of her uninvited touch. Rather than tug his hands into hers like an excited child she held her own palms out to him, forgetting the brand upon one. Her features were open and eager. But where to take him?