T H O M A S I N
As the long-necked water fowl continued to speak, Thomasin would regard her new found friend with small nods and timid smiles. It wasn't that she didn't want to share, but as a guardian of precious information that could potentially ruin her vampiric friend, the petite mare would not risk it. She'd blink her duo-chrome lashes in a slow and sleepy fashion, a gradual simper growing on her pallid lips as she listens to the bird on her back.
"If you promise not to tell others-"
Suddenly, her worth weighed more in the palm of her hands - no longer just a baker, just a dreamer - the dusty dryad had been strangely knighted as a keeper of secrets. There was something delectable about other's trusting in her, confiding in her, burying their guarded truths and whispered stories.
Despite what her mother insisted, Thomasin was more than just a wall-flower.
The promise of trusting in one another was a heart-song that her floral organ danced to.
Yet her own tiny victories would be saved for later as she indulged in the words coming from the avian's beak. "Strange magic indeed," she muses to herself, before asking aloud, "So you choose to be a swan by day? Why only a stallion at night?" - she inquires carefully, retracting some of her words when she decides she is being too bold. "I am deeply sorry, I guess what I am meaning to ask, is why the transformation takes place? But you do not have to indulge me if it is too heavy a burden."
At the mention of romance, her face once again flushes, though not as violently as it had before. As Thomasin glances back, she notices the subtle change in his facial structure, and chooses her words carefully. "I've never been involved romantically. Perhaps I am also not cut out for love stories - " she jests quietly and playfully. Her brief smile fades into a contemplative expression as she day-dreams behind those cloudy eyes. She may not believe she is cut out for romance, but she has had just a taste, a smidge, a fleeting sample of those raging stomach butterflies and lightning heart palpitations.
With a subdued wince, she painfully accepts Odile's compliments about not being abnormal and pushes on to the horizon, taking note of the growing silhouette of what she could assume was Dusk Court's capital. Her jaw works as she contemplates her next string of words. "Why is your ex - well, your ex?" naively, she asks, assuming that perhaps they didn't see eye to eye on how many children they wanted, or the other was not keen on the swan form - oh, but what if it was scandalous? An affair in the moonlight, an illegitimate love child?
What if it was worse? Did he try to hurt Odile?
Thomasin's gaze was downcast again, brow furrowed as she made connections between Odile and Valan. Did love really turn some people into monsters?
What if she was to become a monster?
"talking."
tagged: @Odile <3
