Stavanger Bay losing feeling's getting old

his response... how casual -- something dalia always appreciated. she was not uptight by any means, but she was always so fretful, took a lot of things rather seriously. to have him -- and saucy and rannveig -- around always helped her loosen up a bit. it always helped calm her restless mind, remind her to take a breath. 

they walked in silence -- where dalia took the time to think of things to say later. silence with velen never felt uncomfortable, but she didn't want it to linger forever. she appreciated his company and his help -- she didn't want to be a bore. but when they arrived at her den, stomach still in knots, dalia suddenly wished he'd had some witty quip, just to lighten the tension. but he didn't. and dalia scrambled for her own -- but she was not as crude (in a good way!) as he was. "i get to tell saucy you came home with me," she said brightly, regretting it immediately. how embarrassing! that wasn't even funny! or even vulgar, it was just poor wordplay. "ah -- pretend i didn't say that," she added. damn.

she ducked into the den, face burning, expecting him to follow and probably poke a little fun at her -- she deserved it! only now did she realize it was kind of a wreck inside, which was even more embarrassing. oh! why'd she have to be a healer? why couldn't she just tell stories? or fight? never mind the pile of coconuts in one corner of the place -- some split and some full -- or the scattered shells and glass and stones that surrounded them, there were also small assortments of seeds and dried leaves on stones, like she begun to make a cache but gave up halfway through. it was the dead of winter, anyway, there wasn't much to be storing away for use... 

truthfully, it wasn't bad, just a few piles. but dalia felt bad about them anyway. 

she grit her teeth, glancing velen's way. "mom's den was always way more organized than this," she said with a sheepish grin, tail wagging slowly, "i don't know how she did it -- she had way more stuff."