Bad Weather, Good Company

Walk | Talk | Think

He was worried? She had to lift her eyes and glance at him then, just to be sure he had spoken plainly, but the nervous lilt to his smile was telling enough. He was worried. Though he seemed to desperately want this dream of his to come true, though he still found it pertinent enough to mention in conversation, he was worried! And despite it all, Ashtoreth was sure he was going to do whatever he could once he found this potential wife of his. He would use everything in his arsenal to win her over. She knew already from experience that he was strong and capable, providing for both herself and him when they had found each other after surviving the volcano that had destroyed their original home. He was smart and trustworthy, as was proven by his promotion to Lead Warrior. His wit easily matched her own - no doubt he could use that for flirting - and who honestly could deny his deep blue stare? Overall, he had a lot going for him. Who, really, would be able to turn him away?

Even as the thought ghosted through her mind, she tried not to think how it might apply to her. They were only friends, weren't they? He had said it himself, in fact, when he had mentioned bringing her to his den, which still felt strangely small and spacious at the exact same time. Just good friends who had helped each other out of a bind, who had banded together to better their odds of survival. And that was how she viewed him, wasn't it? As a friend, a good friend? A very strong, capable friend. A very dependable, considerate... Very charming and witty... Very cute and sweet and fun...friend. Then why does that not sound friendly?

Nervous of the new direction her thoughts had wandered and even more nervous of acknowledging what they meant, she wracked her brain for a new direction of topic or at least an appropriate response. There had to be something, anything, to break the heaviness that she felt in the air, the sudden sense that maybe darting off into the storm would have been a safer alternative to trying to pursue that line of thought. But running was not her style. Avoidance was, but try as she might nothing came to mind: no witty remark, no silly comment, no playful bit of banter. She was, for once, at a loss.

Which meant she needed to go for honesty, as lying outright was just not something she was comfortable with. A part of her worried over the implications this might mean if more than she wished could be read or heard inside of her voice, but she had wasted too much time already. She needed to answer him, and did so though still continued to stare at the space between them. "You'd be great at it," she stated simply and with a sort of quiet resignation, grateful her tone came out more or less casual so that she felt comfortable attaching on a last second smile. He deserved that much. And disliking the sense that she was hiding from him - if they were such good friends then she should have been able to meet his eyes after complimenting him, right? - she forced herself to do so and show him the honesty in her words, all while willing that to be the only thing he saw if he chose to look at her.