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ISOPIA
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
Delight spreads in obvious waves across Hubris' shiny scaled features as Roanne accepts his gift. The male was tempted to clap his hands together in triumph were it not for the still of the day. Instead, he trilled a sound as melodic as he could make it (since he could not offer riddles to the old one, as Isopia had done), and sat backwards, appearing extremely childlike in his comfort. The dragon's tail curled about his bronzey frame, as he sat at the hooves of the great sentinel, looking truly like a giant from his lowly vantage point.
Talented? Had such an adjective ever been ascribed to her? She didn't think that it had. Annoying, surely. Bothersome, cumbersome, and obtuse. Some called her philosophical (which she liked), but they always said it in a way which sounded like an insult, or like they were being condescending.
But talented?
What small about of parental issues Isopia had, suddenly bloomed in the back of her mind (no one had called her talented, but especially not them), but Mountain was unaware of it. She only blinked with mute wonder at Roanne. Even if he had stopped at task, he would have had her rapt attention.
But challenge?
Isopia's ears perked forward and she took a confident step forward.
"Speak your request of me, old father." Now what she said was not purely for conversation form. Now she really did want to know. What was it he wanted of her? What was it he thought she could do? It had to do with her mind, she gleamed that much. After all, what other talents could he possibly be referring to? Sure, she had traded in her crafting magic for the power to numb her mind to injury in battle, but did he know that? Why would Archibald give this old man that information? No ... this was about their riddle challenge.
This was about her intellect. The piece of herself she valued most, and he seemed to value it as well.
Suddenly, for the first time since Volterra broke the tenuous strings of her heart, she felt wanted.
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