Lorielle's pointed ears shift, adjusting to the sound of someone approaching. Â They settle in the sand beside her, and while her fingers work methodically on her hair, a familiar voice reaches her. Â She turns her head slightly, just enough to see past the braid that hung beside her face. Â The hair clip still sat between her lips, so she took a moment to free one of her hands to remove it.
"Just until I am needed for something else," she says in a jovial, light-hearted tone. Â Just then Kieaira approached, leaving a pot of water near them on the ground. Â So she was needed for something else after all. Â She quickly placed the hair pin back into the edge of her mouth, flicking her fingers through her hair to finish the braid more hurriedly. Â Once it was finished, she twisted the braid, then raised her arms and wrapped the braid around her head. Â She grabbed the pin, securing the braid in place, then tentatively moved her hands away.
When the braid stayed in its place, she went about grabbing the pot and placing it upon the fire. Â At the mention of botany, she raised her head to meet Kieaira's eyes.
"I do, actually," she said, seemingly having forgotten. Â "But I can't say there is much to harvest from this barren place." Â She glanced around, seeing nothing but sand and the occasional patch of grass. Â She supposed she could dig for roots near the water, but she was uncertain whether or not she trusted the water nearby. Â She bit her lip, wondering if there was anything at all she could do. Â She was not the culinary type, unfortunately.
As she held the pot on the flame, the flickering light danced upon her features. Â Her red cheeks gave an unwordly glow, casting orange up into her contrasting eyes. Â She gave a slight shiver, a breeze slithering up her mostly exposed back. Â She was grateful for the cold, though. Â She would have to retrieve her tunic from the caravan before they all slept.
"Just until I am needed for something else," she says in a jovial, light-hearted tone. Â Just then Kieaira approached, leaving a pot of water near them on the ground. Â So she was needed for something else after all. Â She quickly placed the hair pin back into the edge of her mouth, flicking her fingers through her hair to finish the braid more hurriedly. Â Once it was finished, she twisted the braid, then raised her arms and wrapped the braid around her head. Â She grabbed the pin, securing the braid in place, then tentatively moved her hands away.
When the braid stayed in its place, she went about grabbing the pot and placing it upon the fire. Â At the mention of botany, she raised her head to meet Kieaira's eyes.
"I do, actually," she said, seemingly having forgotten. Â "But I can't say there is much to harvest from this barren place." Â She glanced around, seeing nothing but sand and the occasional patch of grass. Â She supposed she could dig for roots near the water, but she was uncertain whether or not she trusted the water nearby. Â She bit her lip, wondering if there was anything at all she could do. Â She was not the culinary type, unfortunately.
As she held the pot on the flame, the flickering light danced upon her features. Â Her red cheeks gave an unwordly glow, casting orange up into her contrasting eyes. Â She gave a slight shiver, a breeze slithering up her mostly exposed back. Â She was grateful for the cold, though. Â She would have to retrieve her tunic from the caravan before they all slept.
