T H O M A S I N
Tales of disbelief? An audible swallow could be heard as Thomasin shuffled uncomfortably. How would she find the right words and still be considerate of the newfound lady friend she had acquired? Her gaze would fall as she combed her vocabulary, warring with herself as she wondered if Caligo would forgive her if she told lies.
No, not lies, she would decide. Just share enough to satiate the swan’s curiosity, but guard any information that might compromise her budding friendship. She would amount it to a knightly duty – Thomasin: a guardian of secrets, protector of vulnerable monsters, keeper of the night-walkers.
“I believe I’ve come to realize that there is strange magic in this world.”
The lamb would return her gaze to the waterfowl, a kind simper on her face. “I’d be grateful of any help, thank you,” she admits sheepishly. If she had to go door to door to find this manor, then by Caligo’s might, she would – she’d more than likely faint in between each inquiry, but she’d gather the courage eventually, of course.
Anything for Valan.
At the mention of things not appearing as they seem, she would refocus her attention, a curious tilt to her head. “And if not a swan when the sun falls, then what?” she would ask, anticipation laced each word as she was half eager to hear his answer, half apprehensive at the possibilities.
With the mention of man’s touch and company, it would suddenly dawn on the lamb what he was hinting at. All the blood in Thomasin’s body rushed to her face, delicate head reclining into her chest as she tried to hide her bashfulness. “I – I’m not sure I’d be the right mare to ask. I certainly don’t know any gorgeous blokes, and I just –“ she flustered amongst herself, words failing to form as her lips buzzed quietly in embarrassment. Was she sweating? Why did that statement make her feel so hot?
Perhaps it was because suddenly visions of women danced in her head – lithesome and wild, gentle and brimming with feminine magic, hair as untamable as the wind, laughter that is both tender and mighty. Mares with their mothering touches, and lips that spilled spells of entrapment. Definitely - ladies were the only company she wished to keep.
A nervous string of giggles finally erupted from her smile, her cheeks sore from the grin she couldn’t seem to shake. “Well! I certainly hope you find the company you seek.”
And with Odile’s proposal of a piggy-back ride, Thomasin would easily oblige, bending at the knee once more to allow the bird to clamber aboard her back; a subtle side-eye was wary, watchful to make sure he didn’t accidently stumble on her exposed parts. Asking kindly, she’d try to hide the paranoia in her voice. “Please, be careful of your step. I’m a bit, well, abnormal.”
When Odile was ready, she would rise to her feathered feet and continue crossing the frosty fields, her head a gentle bob as she hummed quietly to herself, patient for his contribution to their strange and eccentric conversation.
"talking."
tagged: @Odile <3
