BEXLEY BRIAR
Despite herself, Bexley can’t help enjoying this unexpected interaction. She gazes upon Avdotya almost reverently, and the silence that passes between them is comfortable, respectful, for they may not be friends, but at least they don’t have to be at each other’s throats. The Teryr fight has humbled Bexley ever so slightly, and though she’s loathe to admit it, she can’t help admiring Avodtya’s strength, her stoicism, a facet of hardiness she’s never been able to harness for herself. Bexley has always been passionate, hot-blooded, too easy to aggravate; when she’s not careful, her expressions are too obvious, too blatant and fervid. She doubts Avdotya has ever had such a problem.
Only a moment passes until Avdotya brings up the opinions of their peers, and at that Bexley’s lips purse, her eyebrows drawing together in a lazy expression of displeasure. I don’t care too much about their opinions. It’s a frank statement, more honest than many of Bexley’s have been. Of course it’s nice to be liked, but she is not so insecure that she counts on other’s approval, not so uncertain of her abilities that she needs to be validated; indeed, Bex has always been a stubborn believer that there is a kind of power in her blatant disregard for others’ view of her, too confident and too set in her views to care if she is disliked. She glances at Avdotya calmly: I would assume you didn’t, either.
Her gaze drops at the motion of the dates, watching in mild surprise as they roll almost to her chest, fat bodies bumping against the sand, tumbling and rolling from the force of Avdotya’s hoof. A grin splits Bexley’s bone-white lips as she takes one between her teeth. Chewing against the caramel sweetness, her ears flicker in listening to the warrior’s critique, and with a snort Bex answers warmly, Yeah, I’ll give you that. No use pretending otherwise. With uncharacteristic force, she spits the now-clean date pit onto the sand in front of her, where it skitters and bounces before landing in the dunes. I’m sure you could teach me a thing or two.
With that hanging in the air, Bexley attempts to shake the water from her body, though still it drips from the multitude of curls across her nape and even the lashes she’s forced to keep blinking against the hot eye of Solis.
@avdotya <3
