Member
Timber Moren
Newcomers? Ah, good, sweet ol' newcomers. Something scooped into her heart, her chest -she parted her mouth, letting a breath creep past her clutches- rippling waves of apprehension, spreading outwards, spreading at a rate so inconsistent and yet still never hesitating for more than three seconds, like an infection—a domino effect! All until it reached the borders of her body. Her skin. The waves suddenly overflowed and crashed out into the breezes, then got carried away with them. And vanished.
On the exterior, however, this final lofty sensation was pictured by simply a twitch of Trilune's wings. It wasn't as long, and certainly had not been as majestic, although at other times she could be. Thank the gods I'm not last! That would've been rather embarrassing. She twisted her neck back toward her little cluster in her side of the wagon, blue eyes dilated wide from observing them, and trying best she could to catch every detail. The mythic humanoid creature filed them away for later.
Speaking of 'filing people away', what had become of the 'two individuals', as the letter had effectively worded it? She caressed a pointer finger over the rough zipper of a random pocket, recalling the message. They were supposed to pursue them. Or what was left of them, anyway. The situation surfaced and pooled onto the surface of her mind, obscuring the world around her for a second.
Aw shoot, what did I miss? flashed instantly through her head, taking in somebody's low voice while linking it to a face. At least, it sounded lower than the conversations made of feminine speech. Wait, besides that one other male. She had detected an older person in the wagon upon her arrival before, of course.
"Huh? Oh...! Yes, I know, I know." Trilune pursed her lips, swallowing back 'just that I hate to keep people dawdling around, see' without a second thought. This was common practice for her. Statements that may reveal too much had to leave.
No, not may. Will.
Would.
Weaknesses weren't a healthy start, now were they? It'd be... inconvenient. She'd broken her sentence off, in any case. Acting hastily, she added, "Mister. Sir." Trilune passed him the slightest beginnings of a playful, wry smirk to cover her heated cheeks. Caught off guard, again. Step up your game. Chill out. You're still in the same exhilarated gear you wore while reading the letter. Keep that in mind, Trilune. It wasn't as if she knew anything about him, including his name, or vice versa. Considering she was younger (though not always shorter) than some other people in the group, 'mister sir' seemed fitting. Granted, it might change over time, depending on what Trilune learned, but it seemed fitting at the moment. Also, it was amusing to repeat in her mind, since the nickname sounded immensely old-fashioned, even for the sylph race.
For the remainder of the time, the young lady settled back to observe, due to 'mister sir' turning to the woman she had greeted earlier, and stole a few glances at another of the newcomers. "Indeed it is, or else we would not be on here, don't you think?" Afterwards, Trilune might exchange words with them; for now, she'd let the feathers fall where they may, as long as it didn't take too long. Or, as her father would have said, 'Yes, I do understand, but you know that though time is fascinating teacher, he unfortunately kills all his pupils.' Quite frankly, she always thought that was very rude of Time.
@Mokley@Gareth@TheWindel@Greenie@Mimik
