Moira Tonnerre
where you go, i shall follow
where you go, i shall follow
Shutters fall in his eyes like rain on a stormy day, snapping shut so that not even the barest hint of emotion, of who he is, can be seen. It takes her by surprise, a small scowl crossing her own face in response, brows drawing down and in to settle heavily over amber eyes that rise like the tides to meet his own dark gaze. Only when their eyes meet, when her own inner storm passes, does Eik dare push on a pretty face. Moira's father would be impressed, she certainly is, and raises a brow to offer her own smile. A giggle slips out, however inappropriate it is, and she shakes her head. bobbing on either side, her braids dance with her head. "It is our scars and seams that stitch us into who we are. I do not wear mine proudly like you do, but they are mine... For what it's worth." Shyly she grins at the ground, almost flattered at the compliment that is not quite that. She does not see his own contemplation, his own conclusions, but she does not need to.
Moira does not live and breathe for him as she does Estelle, as she does her family… But she rather enjoys the way he says her name, the faint accent that caresses his words and tenderly greets as a friend might.
Were she to be completely honest behind the yawn that now makes her back arch and eyes close, muscles tensing and wings flaring, she would tell you that Eik is rather lovely to be around. There are no faults on the surface, and only her concern for the cut on his shoulder that she found him picking at causes her distress for his physical state. Valerian. "I have jasmine oil... It helps for relaxation at night as well. Sometimes, when I cannot sleep and am not as lost as I am today, I use it before bed. You won't feel as anxious, and in tandem with Valerian it is a wonderful elixir." Offering a shrug, Moira almost hopes he would say thank you, but she knows better than to expect too much. Restless nights are a dime a dozen, but she does not like to see the way purple comes to steal the pale white away, to claim those deep-set eyes as its own resting place. Sleeplessness does not belong on Eik, and Moira is not the person to tell him such a thing when they've only just met.
As the sun says hello, she does not look to see what she would paint that night, but instead to see how she would paint the man who now wears pinks and oranges and reds as a fur coat wrapping upon him as a lover would. His mouth moves, her eyes follow every motion, and it takes a moment for her to think of his question.
Gods... What gods was Moira taught of? What substitution for Sunday school did she have? Chewing on her lip, with a sigh she at last shakes her head. "If family were a god, that would be to whom I pray. It is not a being, it is a thing. The Tonnerres, my family, we do not teach of a specific god. There are stories that a neighboring country has three deities to whom they answer.
"Athos, Venus, and The Nameless.
"Few in my family ventured outside the walls and found religion, but they do not spread it after they've returned. We gather to celebrate life and mourn death, to be merry at weddings and births, to grieve when the children are banished and do not take the mark. But we do not have gods as others do. Caligo is not a part of our upbringing. Novus... This land... It's all very strange." Taking a deep breath from all that she said, she at last looks away to think of the portraits hung upon walls and in corridors. Did they have gods before, those first few of the Tonnerre family? Or were they always a godless people? Does it really even matter if they do or don't?
"Eik...could I paint you? Just like this, under the sun and the moon with nothing but the future ahead?" It's a rather intimate question, a personal one she does not usually extend. Those paintings are reserved for her family, for the twins. Not strangers she'll likely never see again. But he is too beautiful to resist, too much like home to ignore.
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