Charynrae snickered, delighting in her companion’s frustration. She retired to her bed, listening to the bedsheets rustle as Amal tossed and turned, giggling when he finally stormed off. Pity. She had been half hoping he would try to take care of things himself. She would have been more than happy to send his frustration to new heights with a perfectly timed interruption. Not today, it seemed.
It was strange, being… alone all of a sudden. It shouldn’t have been. He had released her from a prison cell and before that… well, she had been in a community of drow, helping others out of the Underdark. But she had kept to herself for the most part even there. Most of the drow on the surface were followers of Eilistraee and she had little interest in their ways of worship. She was not much for naked singing and dancing in the moonlight.
She almost expected Amal not to return, but return he did. It seemed he had manage to compose himself enough to sleep. She didn’t speak up again, lest she disturb his rest. There would be no fun in it now. And she needed rest, too.
She woke before Amal and got up quietly. She pulled on her leggings before kneeling down at the hearth, poking two fingers into the ash that lay in the pit. She used it to draw a spider on the floorboards before folding herself over, her forehead on her hands on the floor to pray. She could not call herself a priestess of Lolth, not anymore, but so much of her life so far had been all about the Spider Queen, and so she still used it in worship.
It was strange, being… alone all of a sudden. It shouldn’t have been. He had released her from a prison cell and before that… well, she had been in a community of drow, helping others out of the Underdark. But she had kept to herself for the most part even there. Most of the drow on the surface were followers of Eilistraee and she had little interest in their ways of worship. She was not much for naked singing and dancing in the moonlight.
She almost expected Amal not to return, but return he did. It seemed he had manage to compose himself enough to sleep. She didn’t speak up again, lest she disturb his rest. There would be no fun in it now. And she needed rest, too.
She woke before Amal and got up quietly. She pulled on her leggings before kneeling down at the hearth, poking two fingers into the ash that lay in the pit. She used it to draw a spider on the floorboards before folding herself over, her forehead on her hands on the floor to pray. She could not call herself a priestess of Lolth, not anymore, but so much of her life so far had been all about the Spider Queen, and so she still used it in worship.