L I B E R T Y

/‘hir,āeth/

Diana blinked, lifting her head and raising a brow at the compliment. Not a bad thing to say on first meeting, but definitely one of the more unique greetings she’s gotten. Diana turned to face Quinn with her entire body, lifting her blade, then switching to hold it brawler-style holding it out to her.

Quinn first watched the ceremonious cleansing of the blade. The prayer, the glow of the water, the strangeness of it all were all far too alien to Quinn for her to begin to understand. All the same, she continued with her not taking and sketches.

Once Diana started to speak again, Quinn looked up just a tad more frequently. Half of her attention was on her sketching and the other half was on the explanation. It was definitely interesting to know that at least some outsiders were welcome to Targon. Even then, going alone wasn’t the best idea for Quinn, if stories of its peoples were to be believed.

She glanced up when Diana started flexing, eyes staying on her for much longer than she usually did. It was easy to see she was taking the time to appreciate the definition that they other had built on their form, as well as the tone and size of her. Eventually, Quinn blinked and coughed, centering herself as she continued the sketch.

“Most of my muscle was built up from stalking quarries and hunting from a distance. So not as much ‘in your face’ with it all, but I can run pretty damn quick and far, among other things needed for my line of work.” Quinn explained, flexing herself. Her muscles were much more lean, but their was certainly definition to them, and she could likely put up a fight. Her legs were especially toned, compared to the rest of her at least. Needless to say, a kick from her would probably cause someone a considerable amount of pain at least.

Her hand released the blade, allowing it to rest within the water. The blade would bathe itself in it’s holy light for a bit before the magic would fade. Diana was comfortable enough in this woman’s presence to allow this ceremonial spectacle. There was no harm in it, she discovered- this woman wasn’t a typical Demacian. Not to mention, on top of that, Quinn’s lingering gaze on the Lunari’s musculature did not escape her notice. 

Diana’s arms relaxed, and she would rest her forearms on her knees, a quick, relaxed sigh escaping her as her eyes closed. At ease. It may have looked as if she was meditating for a moment, even as she listened closely to Quinn’s explanation. She would nod her head, affirming the scout with a simple, “So hunter’s muscle, then.” She would smile, albeit it was a bit muted- too long had she been given reason to smile that most would look awkward on her features. “Most of your muscles being in your legs then. I’d hate to go against you in a foot race, for sure.” 

Diana blinked, lifting her head and raising a brow at the compliment. Not a bad thing to say on first meeting, but definitely one of the more unique greetings she’s gotten. Diana turned to face Quinn with her entire body, lifting her blade, then switching to hold it brawler-style holding it out to her.

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That woman, she looked familiar. “Freljord,” she’d speak out loud, commenting on the sketch. She recognized the boar- the type of boar, at the very least. It was a Freljord native. She’d only seen a few during her last sojourn, but they were recognizable enough. Her attention snapped back to Quinn, cocking her head to the side as she listened intently. “Interesting. I can’t see why that would be something that people would turn their backs on you for. One should never be made to feel alone because of the conditions of their birth.” Diana herself had no outstanding views on Vastaya- they were people, same as anyone else, and she wouldn’t treat them any different. 

She looked up at Valor, now that she was used to his presence, and aimed a quick smile in his direction- just for a brief moment. Then she turned back to the stream, wiping away at her face once again, a breath escaping her as she dropped from a kneel into a full seat, crossing her legs. Then, carefully, she would begin removing her armor. With the stream here, she could focus on cleaning her armor and weapon, and taking care for their maintenance. 

As she began stripping the armor from her form, she’d make a quick change of subject, in an attempt to steer the conversation into brighter waters. “If you’re looking for a new subject to sketch, let me be honest- I might not make for the best portrait.” A knowing smirk would grow on her lips, before she followed up, “But Targon? It would be a sight. The snowcapped peaks, the sparse, forested areas, the view of the horizons over rocky terrain. It’s a sight that deserves to be immortalized.”

“Magic,” Quinn responded, still sketching away. “Vastaya are welcome in Demacia, and some even serve in the military. I don’t know the technical names, but a lot look like bovines and hawks. But they’re still magical, and magic is still not trusted. Especially with recent events.”

Quinn looked up, and noted the other had began removing her armor. She whistled at Val, then motioned upwards. He fluttered and landed on a branch above, now starting to clean himself some. Quinn also noticed the conversation shift, but felt as though it was appropriate to at least give an answer as to why she’s felt so isolated. She set her journal down for a moment, taking off her boots and foot covers before dipping them in the water, down stream from Diana as to respect her clean water, if she wanted it.

“I have no doubt it’s beautiful,” Quinn picked her journal back up, starting to draw again. “And no doubt it would make for an excellent piece. But don’t deny your own display.” She said, eyes only glancing up to Diana for moments to get a good reference of her before drawing again. Little fishes began swimming out, nibbling at the dead skin on Quinn’s own appendages. She paid them no mind, allowing the fish to do as they wish.

“It’s not every day you see a Targonian wandering around in the wilderness, may as well take the opportunity to draw you out. Are all Targonians as tall as you?”

Magic. Of course it was magic. The entire reason why she was nervous to be seen in Demacia in the first place, and the whole reason why Diana was preferring to stay hidden in the forests of the land until it came time for her to leave. Thankful was she that, if her quarry were present in these lands, they were being very adept at keeping to themselves. The Lunari was free to move on as swiftly as possible, a fact to which she would be grateful if not for the present conversational company. 

Her only response would be a minor grunt, and an acknowledging nod of her head as the armor came off completely, set to rest at her side. She’d set to cleaning that later- first came the blade. A silent prayer said under her breath as her eyes closed for a brief moment, before holding it out over the stream. She’d slowly lower it, submerging the weapon under the clear water. One would swear that the stream would begin to glow as she held the blade beneath it’s surface.