Private Tales The Ways of Magic

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"Your mother," she said after a moment, "is an angel in disguise. And she is definitely easier to be in the company of and understand. My Lord," she added belatedly.

After a moment she stepped forward until there were just a handful of feet between them, eyes still locked on his. That odd feeling still persisted, ever stronger and stranger with every passing breath. Why was it that its presence made her feel angry, unspeakably so?

There were too many things buried in her head to sort through. None of them made any sense, regardless. "It isn't as if I - and many others - haven't done things off of a feeling before. Instinct, premonition, whatever you want to call it."

She wanted to ask what the feeling was but refrained. She lingered a moment longer, shook her head, and turned on one heel and walked away.

"I will need new clothes," she said after pausing at the door. "I'll tear the seams of these if I try to do anything strenuous in them," she said and then left.
 
  • Popcorn
Reactions: Thallan
Anger flickered in her gaze as she stepped closer to him and he wondered if that was a common way for those in the mortal world to offer their thanks. He had saved her life not once, but twice, and she had the nerve to be angry at him? She was too stubborn for her own good. Maybe he should have left her to die, trapped in her human body.

"And wouldn't we all like to see that," he muttered after her last comment. He wasn't sure if she had heard him or not, but she found a way to gripe about everything; even his mother's own clothes on her back were not good enough.

But he was just tired- he would feel much more hospitable in the morning. Or maybe that was his mother's voice in his head telling him that.

Huffing and puffing (like a child, Elasha would say), Thallan tore his hand through his hair once more before crawling beneath the blankets on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, willing himself to sleep.