[She had half a mind to skip, if she were honest. She knows there is an air about her by now, mildly bloody; she knows she's been more confrontational, and she knows what it's caused by. But she has more important things to do, than figure out how to atone for a horrible woman's decisions.
Such as brew potions, gather supplies, and teach herself wandless magic. Such as try her best to evade sleep, lest her regular nightmares catch up.
As soon as she steps into the faint light of the room, he'll spot them, too. The little cuts on her left temple, the two little scratch-like cuts under her right jawline, the scrapes on her hands. There's bruises, too, but she has stopped checking and keeping track, for that too would distract her.
So she does not allow herself to feel self-conscious of the way the body betrays. Instead, she sends him a withering glare, and sits down opposite him.]
I'm not entirely convinced they'd care all that much. [She glances down at the tea, and then at him, taking him in with a keen eye.] Well, what ails you?
action! (aka what wrathion is not getting)
Such as brew potions, gather supplies, and teach herself wandless magic. Such as try her best to evade sleep, lest her regular nightmares catch up.
As soon as she steps into the faint light of the room, he'll spot them, too. The little cuts on her left temple, the two little scratch-like cuts under her right jawline, the scrapes on her hands. There's bruises, too, but she has stopped checking and keeping track, for that too would distract her.
So she does not allow herself to feel self-conscious of the way the body betrays. Instead, she sends him a withering glare, and sits down opposite him.]
I'm not entirely convinced they'd care all that much. [She glances down at the tea, and then at him, taking him in with a keen eye.] Well, what ails you?