Lake Rodney she’s worth more than she realizes

the pallid woman does not respond — at least not verbally — as praimfaya calls out to her and for a moment, the young worlida struggles with confliction as she ponders whether to be affronted by the bored look she gets in return or not. no one has ever looked at her as if she were as boring as a leaf skittering across the ground before; but before praimfaya can feel too offended the woman's tail gestures in an inviting movement with a posture that is welcoming.

praimfaya ponders this, too, wondering how bored can shift from inviting so quickly and if she should be more cautious. praimfaya isn't used to the verbal silence that the woman eludes, and though she would not admit it finds it a bit uncomfortable. can you speak? praimfaya inquires as she draws nearer to the woman with careful and calculated steps, unable to help the low burn of curiosity that breathes to life, initial discomfort aside. it only occurs to praimfaya afterwords that perhaps that question was insensitive for though the woman bears not throat scars upon a scan of the worlida's frostbound silver gaze, that doesn't mean there aren't scars unseen. perhaps she is mute, praimfaya thinks and be it by birth, by injury, or by choice praimfaya offers a soft if not sheepishly apologetic expression for her prying. all the while, never once pausing to consider that her words would not be understood.