More than anything she was more angry, but beneath her frustration were residual taints of decaying misery and despair, and even deeper below that (topsoil, subsoil, bedrock) old and weathered jealousy.
There were a thousand things she could say to him (to make up for her own arrogance and shortcomings) but she didn't want to say anything at all. She was so done—wasn't her time better spent in her solitude? Wasn't her time better spent quietly admiring Kid (for tolerating his mother, for being as brave as could be?) He had more bravery than her. We should fetch mother, Volterra had said (or something like that—she didn't remember what he said so much as his face)—and she'd wondered if they were better leaving Confutatis in jail. No: she hadn't wondered, she had decided. Unlike Kid, she couldn't bear to face the wrath of her mother.
I was always a coward Lilómiel.
The dragon snorted, swooping downwards. They had spent most of the day hunting together, Lil soaring and swooping for songbirds, and Nymeria on foot seeking for secrets. Now his stomach was laden with the weight of young songbirds; now, feathers caught between his teeth and flame dripping off his tongue, he was off to find one more. This, in typical awkwardness, was how Nymeria and him came across Roux: Lil was hunting the red kite.
Snow crackled and crunched beneath her hooves as she approached, head lowering. She peered up at Roux from between hooded lashes, neither friendly nor unfriendly, simply there and watching: and instead of saying anything she said nothing at all.
OOC: Thank you for your patience! <3
Yes I lied, don't think about you all the time
All my switchblade words ain't aim to cut your sweet delusions