Moira Tonnerre
where you go, i shall follow
where you go, i shall follow
Humming her appreciation and blushing under the praise, she sticks close to him as he guides them toward a large display full of sugary sweets. She remembers things like this among gossamer gowns and glistening smiles that hid sharks and leeches and spiders who only vied for power and poisons. There was dancing then, too, but the feeling was different. Those who came of age were celebrated at a great festivity once during the year, yet Anselm would never let Moira eat the sweets. Ears flick back for a moment as she remembers those days - the days when those of her blood would still glare and snarl or blatantly ignore her. Truly, it still thunders in her bloodstream, slips unseen in the shadows of her mind, and most days she can push it aside. Today, the voice is held at bay once more when Asterion begins to speak again.
He reminds her of the ocean - calm or dangerous, but always steady, always constant. Like seafoam and surf breaking upon the beach, she can almost feel the warm waters lap at her, ease her into something more comfortable to be around these crowds. If she could express her gratitude, she would. Silence is Moira's best feature in her opinion. Out of sight, out of mind. When he is silent with the passing of people, only their footsteps for Moira's music, she purses her lips thoughtfully. "I never really had the chance for such sweets before. The few I could sneak, or those that Leo brought me, were cherished and treasured. However," she paused, giving him a sly grin, "I think I could have beat the wolves with how fast they disappeared." And just like that her peals of laughter are back once more, a smile in place as she brushes her shoulder against his.
You are not alone she tries to convey.
Moira is not good at being physical, at comforting others. Estelle is trained for such touch, such soothing. Her every movement is meant to be a seduction of the senses, the mind, and the body. She is meant to ease any into a place they wish to be. Moira... Moira is meant to heal, but she was not taught to be so personal. "We could try them all." She says, grinning as broadly as the Cheshire cat. With such a simple statement, a small slice of carrot cake slides toward her, cream cheese icing already in the air. Before Asterion can react, she throws the icing at his face and bursts out tittering. "You said tonight is not for sorrow," managing to gasp out the words at last, the phoenix woman retreats hastily to the other side of the display. "So do not frown so, Asterion, or there will be worse things than frosting!"
@Asterion . food fight anyone ?
e-cho, unsplash
