like a jar, you housed infinite tenderness
and infinite tenderness shattered you
Congenial. Yes, Yael is nothing if not congenial! Rikyn could probably glare at her outright, and Yael would offer him a warm smile. Kill ‘em with kindness, and all that jazz. He can continue to be Mr. Grumpy Gills alllllll day, if he so desires.
But back to Tiamat. Yael laughs are her simple explanation. “Oh, of course!” she says through the glass, as if the answer should have been obvious all along. The little foreigner is slowly starting to understand the ways of magic here, and how the Gods hold much more of it closer to their chests, bequeathing it out to their worshippers in bits and pieces. How - or why - is rather unclear still, but like the random mutations that happened in B’kanna, it seems that the citizens can unexpectedly change. Her head bobs up and down to indicate that she will wait while the blue merhorse returns to shore, and it isn’t too long before Rikyn pipes up.
Had he remained silent, Yael would have been content to simply look through the bottom at the coral and fish, and crustaceans that lived down there, but as it is, she brings her head back up when he asks her a question. Warm, inviting eyes take in his gold accents, the few scars that she can see, and decides that this is a rather peculiar group. “Ah, yes. Yael. Eet ees a pleasure to meet you, Rikyn. Teeamat and I met een ze T’resxold not too long ago. Ve vere bote recruiting. Ahnd you? Xow do you know our kind freend?”
Hopefully he has time to answer before Tiamat returns.
When the bouncing, buoyant, and effervescent Lady returns to them, Yael greets her with a simple “Shalom,” allowing her and Rikyn a more intimate greeting. “Oh I vas just out to stretch my veengs, and t’ought I’d take a look at t’is tunnel. I deedn’t see it very closely vhen eet vas made.” She looks over at Rikyn, “But I could help you, eef you’re trying to find somet’ing een parteecular? Ahr you eenvestigateeng… Keesa - I mean, Kaos?”
If so, that is terribly clever of him. Though Yael would be inclined to think that any ‘evidence’ or out of place items would have been swept away by numerous tides - one never knows what a keen eye might find - or three keen eyes.
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