Hushed Willows You Won't Leave the Table, She Won't Leave Your Mind

He explained not what he had been carrying, merely poked at it with a lonely paw. The fae decided to take initiative, lowering her head to get a closer look. The reds she'd spotted was a beautiful flower. She sniffed at it softly, but something other than its scent entered her nostrils and she pulled back suddenly, cross-eyed and mouth slightly agape. She had just enough time to turn her head so she wouldn't sneeze in Dante's direction, but the trumpet was blown soon after. Blood rushed to her cheeks, eyes seeking Dante with an embarrassed smile.

She let out a soft sigh of relief when he mentioned meeting Deidra despite her concerns. He called her lovely, something she got unexpectedly jealous of, but this wasn't noticeable. He stumbled over his words as he always did, something she found rather endearing as someone who's habit it was to speak proper and whole sentences. It was a fragment of her mother that had found a way inside her soul, something she probably couldn't and wouldn't get rid of. My voice hmm? I was always told I was too soft spoken as a child. She reacted quietly. But I'm glad it made you seek me out again — I like being with you. She admitted with a smile so wide it her close her eyes for a little while.

He pulled her back into reality then, and she went back to pruning her tail. She hadn't been nervous about it at first, but Aoibh saw to it personally that she would begin to doubt every step she took as a leader. She knew she was fit for the role, knew that she wanted only the best for her own little piece of heaven — but what would the others think? It's going just fine — well, even. Everyone's really helpful, and with you here and Memory, we've grown quite a bit. She answered truthfully. This didn't make her less nervous though - even if they'd be able to become official, how long would it last? Was she fated to fail?