Hushed Willows witcher

There was much going on behind the man’s hard exterior, that was certain. Olive felt the storm of emotions that brewed within the man, a clashing inside him; the empath felt it from him as authentically as she felt her own emotions [though because of practice and prayer, she could now easily separate the two]. She found his stoic exterior in spite of his unease to be unsettling, and because of it, her heart beat a little faster and blood slipped through her body a little bit looser.

The shrouded druid did not particularly like his suggestions about the dark nature of absolutely everything, and she knew him to be inherently wrong, so Olive let his comments drip off of her as if they were fat dew drops, falling from leaves. It was clear that he was trying to rile and bother her, and if Olive had been younger, she might have let him ruffle her feathers — but the Olive of today valued grace above all else, and sought to see it through here.

She regarded him hotly, her demeanor changed somewhat. She no longer thought of him as a threat to the sanctuary; more like unexpected entertainment, or a midnight’s reverie. Due to the hour, Olive did not worry about being found by anyone from Elysium either. Knowing all of this, the sylph felt considerably looser in this interaction. “Then you are a devil indeed,” was the only acknowledgement she gave his ideas on darkness.

and when he questioned her loyalty in a way that made her cheeks flushed, Olive pulled back as if controlled by reins and a little rider on her back. Wholeheartedly, she sought to teach him a thing or two about her place amongst the willows; heaven; elysium, of stark contrast to Diaspora. “I am not so easily led astray, you serpent — you…” but, under his microscope, she suddenly found it hard to put into words.