Silver Creek ☁ θολό ☁

When overcome with ravenous butterflies in her stomach, the sylph would revert to her home tongue, eager to preserve some ounce of confidence before it was waned away entirely.

Dawson's charm lured her in immediately, and again she execrated herself for it, disliking how her cheeks flushed, tingling warmth creeping over her skin beneath the silky cocoa fur. A miniscule fire had pooled at the pit of her belly, and the thickness of his words tempted the flames to dance higher, anticipating, swelling - everything she was using her reserves of strength to avoid. Then, just as apace as the fiery orange sprung taller, it was spat into ash, a stone of dread internally weighing her body down as though the very burden of it sent her sprawling to the snow. And she made the mistake of meeting his eyes.

Fathomless oceans of blue, without an end to pull her from the void and suck her back to the living; she'd never seen orbs of such a mystical azure, and her resolve was crumbling with the ease of a sand castle set against a torrent of irascible water.

"No! I could never," she gasped lightly, sleepy violet gaze knocked right back into the present. "My apologies. I... it means Sir. I meant no ill, I swear it." It had been a word of comfort to Daivya, who relied on one of the few connections to her home. "If you require it, I will refrain from using the language." Not around him, at least - cutting off her connection to the ties of her past was too daunting a possibility, and her tongue drew across her lips nervously as she awaited his verdict. Always obedient, subservient, and yet... the danger sent even greater tickles of aprehension, of... excitement into her veins - the menacing rasp to his tone, the caliginous traces of warning. Was that so terribly wrong?