Moonspear Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job

The suggestion made was agreed to and further insight provided; she wondered what the end result of their trek might be, whether it be a mere patrol or if they might fell prey—but, on the off chance they found something, would the two of them alone be able to handle it? Whether it be predator or prey, could two alone endure the task? Yama did not doubt her elder brother, nor any of her family members for that matter—but she did doubt herself, and could not help but question how much help she would truly be. No matter, she put on a brave face and nodded, eager to at least try—

—the effort put forth matters more than the results yielded, right?

Time to oneself proved to be a good thing, which she was thankful for; although she did wish to begin expanding her horizons a bit, Yama did not, in the meantime, want to be viewed any longer as the local hermit. But if Jarilo, as extroverted as he seemed to be, could understand the necessity of time alone, perhaps others would, too. It brought a larger smile to her face, one capable even of bringing light to her eyes; genuine joy, it seemed. “I was… taken aback by so many words at first,” she admitted. “But I think I appreciate it now.” She found she much preferred to listen, rather than speak herself—others were easier to understand that way.

Gently, she bumped her shoulder to his before picking the pace up slightly—and then, ultimately, slowed again to fall in line with him; she wanted to observe what he did on patrols, after all, and couldn’t do that very well if she simply plowed ahead.