M O I R A
she looks into her mirror,
wishing someone could hear her, so loud
There's something of a question and analysis in his eyes as she laughs, she is not dull enough to not realize how the freckled man watches her intently. Briefly the thought flickers to life, a curiosity if he's ever laughed at all with the serious lines around his mouth and frown upon his brow. That unsettles her slightly, for even though her childhood was not ripe with opportunity and bushels of kindness, there was always laughter within the halls where the children were, and even with the twins once the days of foalhood had passed. Even the two of them could always pull a chuckle from her. Sometimes it went so far that she would end up gasping upon the floor, a heap of gowns and pages with tears streaming down her face and her smile so wide she'd thought her head would split. To see one so distracted by her own laughter was a conundrum all its own, something she tucks into a file now reserved for this strange man who searches for nothing more than sleep.
Were they in Denocte, she could find a remedy within the pages of the library, or perhaps a simple bit of lavender and jasmine tea would help. Jasmine is, after all, her favorite treat before bed when she dares to let herself relax.
Tea is nearly a sacred, reclusive thing for Moira.
The moment his attention is fully upon her, she offers a pretty smile that is no less demanding than the thin line others often wore as their mouth. How is it she has met so few, yet those who cross her path are so interesting that they ignite within her the yearning to reach out and grasp them, holding them closer, even if only for a wrinkle in time? Some days, Moira believes she's been blessed by her mother's pagan gods, all smiling and laughing and sighing - girls, women, and crones raising their hands and dancing so joyously as Moira finds her way through life. "Probably not," she answers honestly with no room for hesitation.
And at last Eik nearly smiles! Taking it as a good sign, she lets him continue before daring to interrupt.
His question almost takes her off guard, for her family would be so ashamed to find she has not properly introduced herself. But they were the ones who confined her behind walls too tall for her to climb, who grounded her and did not teach her to fly as her mother was grounded (feathers clipped) to become a part of the family. They were the ones who kept her so hidden for so long that Moira did not know of any outside the Tonnerre estate and did not trust them as she does her family - even then there are so many in their clan to know them all as intimately as she allows the twins and Estelle.
He is deserving, having put up with her laughter and kept her near enough to be curious and more amused than she's felt in days, so she speaks. "Good then, I'm Moira Tonnerre. Where are you from?" Any gentleman would tell her his name (truly, perhaps he should have told her first, but she won't hold it against him.)
@Eik (he just keeps getting sweeter the more I read his replies)
wishing someone could hear her, so loud
There's something of a question and analysis in his eyes as she laughs, she is not dull enough to not realize how the freckled man watches her intently. Briefly the thought flickers to life, a curiosity if he's ever laughed at all with the serious lines around his mouth and frown upon his brow. That unsettles her slightly, for even though her childhood was not ripe with opportunity and bushels of kindness, there was always laughter within the halls where the children were, and even with the twins once the days of foalhood had passed. Even the two of them could always pull a chuckle from her. Sometimes it went so far that she would end up gasping upon the floor, a heap of gowns and pages with tears streaming down her face and her smile so wide she'd thought her head would split. To see one so distracted by her own laughter was a conundrum all its own, something she tucks into a file now reserved for this strange man who searches for nothing more than sleep.
Were they in Denocte, she could find a remedy within the pages of the library, or perhaps a simple bit of lavender and jasmine tea would help. Jasmine is, after all, her favorite treat before bed when she dares to let herself relax.
Tea is nearly a sacred, reclusive thing for Moira.
The moment his attention is fully upon her, she offers a pretty smile that is no less demanding than the thin line others often wore as their mouth. How is it she has met so few, yet those who cross her path are so interesting that they ignite within her the yearning to reach out and grasp them, holding them closer, even if only for a wrinkle in time? Some days, Moira believes she's been blessed by her mother's pagan gods, all smiling and laughing and sighing - girls, women, and crones raising their hands and dancing so joyously as Moira finds her way through life. "Probably not," she answers honestly with no room for hesitation.
And at last Eik nearly smiles! Taking it as a good sign, she lets him continue before daring to interrupt.
His question almost takes her off guard, for her family would be so ashamed to find she has not properly introduced herself. But they were the ones who confined her behind walls too tall for her to climb, who grounded her and did not teach her to fly as her mother was grounded (feathers clipped) to become a part of the family. They were the ones who kept her so hidden for so long that Moira did not know of any outside the Tonnerre estate and did not trust them as she does her family - even then there are so many in their clan to know them all as intimately as she allows the twins and Estelle.
He is deserving, having put up with her laughter and kept her near enough to be curious and more amused than she's felt in days, so she speaks. "Good then, I'm Moira Tonnerre. Where are you from?" Any gentleman would tell her his name (truly, perhaps he should have told her first, but she won't hold it against him.)
@
