#seluniite

:)

Laera's skepticism is writ across her face in a quirked brow, brown eyes knowing the very signs of fidgeting that she herself possesses. In the days past, Laera hasn't made much of an effort to talk to Eira beyond the usual pleasantry. A nod of acknowledgement, a quiet 'Morning,'; she seems reserved, more so than what's normally expected when a group of strangers are forced to entrust their lives to each other… Laera, however, attempts to make an effort this day.

❝ Your 'air burnt? ❞ The fighter asks, the pitch in her voice revealing her horror and morbid curiosity. She can't quite fathom how something like that could happen, but before she gets too ahead of herself, she poses a question: ❝ Mind if I sit? ❞

Despite asking, Laera doesn't wait for a response. Her movements are stiff, her body aching from the effects of recent combat, and she sits with a small groan. If Laera has something to say, she doesn't immediately respond, her hands wrapping around bent knees as she curiously stares at the subject of their conversation. ❝ …I don't think it's silly. ❞ She points to her own head, her own braids falling out, ❝ It might not look it, but I understand 'ow important a person's 'air can be. I was never allowed to wear mine 'ow I wanted growing up, so… I get it. All that to say, I think it's nice. ❞

:halsintreestance:

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ❝ on your feet, little star. the moonmaiden has blessed us with yet another clear night ; after a long day's journey, surely you should spend it mapping constellations than looking to the likes of me.  ❞