He watches with a thin skin of calm as the green-eyed Senecas answer. 'Yes.' 'No.' 'No.'
Breathing out, a curl of satisfaction lifts up the edges of Senna's lips. He glances towards Theodosia, meets her lavender eyes, and nods once, as if to say 'I am fairly certain I am correct.'
Of course, he is more than fairly certain—but, as the most cautious Scarab prince by birth and by necessity, Senna has never made the mistake of celebrating before the eggs are counted.
Silently he turns to the first Seneca, and says: "Fighter."
Then, the second Seneca: "Messenger."
And finally, the third: "Healer."
He rocks back on his heels, Nestor perched like a white specter on his shoulder, and waits for the final time.
Breathing out, a curl of satisfaction lifts up the edges of Senna's lips. He glances towards Theodosia, meets her lavender eyes, and nods once, as if to say 'I am fairly certain I am correct.'
Of course, he is more than fairly certain—but, as the most cautious Scarab prince by birth and by necessity, Senna has never made the mistake of celebrating before the eggs are counted.
Silently he turns to the first Seneca, and says: "Fighter."
Then, the second Seneca: "Messenger."
And finally, the third: "Healer."
He rocks back on his heels, Nestor perched like a white specter on his shoulder, and waits for the final time.
@redandblack @Theodosia | "senna" nestor
