She'd been watching him intently, as she always did, more so than with others; most people Avis found interesting were likely to be the recipients of her unabashedly upfront gaze. So the attention she paid to Xavarian and his strange aetheric manifestations - such a curiosity he was - would have disconcerted many should such scrutiny be turned on them. So she didn't miss the wince that blinked itself across his face, or even the briefest of dips in temperature. Still, it didn't quite click yet; she supposed something else altogether - though not entirely inaccurate - and gave a little 'tsk', smirking. The hand that grasped his elbow gave it a little shake and squeeze.Â
"Oh, you're ridiculous. Don't you start being self-disparaging on me - I have no patience for that. If I hadn't figured that my current top source of merriment wouldn't last the next few minutes, I'd have made you stay and brave the sun's scowls. With me." She patted his arm. "And once you're fully awake, we can even the score, and be as equal as we want to be." Another challenge.Â
"One moment," she added to him, then slid back into her room. The door was ajar, as careless as its owner, and if Xavarian were to peek or even wander a few steps in, Avis wouldn't have stopped him. Her room was spare, save for the paper sprawl on her desk, and devoid of most material possessions. The garish cover of Taking the Thief would have been the only decorative detail in the room.Â
She went to the old, peeling chest that the Inn supplied and rummaged within. Most of her clothes lay tucked away in there, and she rarely gave much care to how they were arranged or folded til she had to wear them. The same could not be said of a thick towel of a rich dark hue and a rather expensive bearing, however, which she had carefully washed, dried and folded separately from the rest of the mess in the chest. She took this out now, giving it a couple of curious sniffs; the recent washing it'd undergone hadn't dispelled the subtle earthy, yet pleasant, smell it had to it. It smelt, indeed, of a different world altogether.Â
It was then that she made the connection. He'd said as much about his sense of hearing. He'd also made that face on at least one or two other occasions, though she never perceived its reasons til now.Â
She hurried out of the room with this epiphany and the large towel bundled in her arms. "Am I too loud, Xavarian? Do I hurt your ears? Do I?" She was looking both amused and actually apologetic, for once; then, as she held out the towel to him, she gave a smile, a soft, warm one that spoke of that secret meeting they'd shared.
"Oh, you're ridiculous. Don't you start being self-disparaging on me - I have no patience for that. If I hadn't figured that my current top source of merriment wouldn't last the next few minutes, I'd have made you stay and brave the sun's scowls. With me." She patted his arm. "And once you're fully awake, we can even the score, and be as equal as we want to be." Another challenge.Â
"One moment," she added to him, then slid back into her room. The door was ajar, as careless as its owner, and if Xavarian were to peek or even wander a few steps in, Avis wouldn't have stopped him. Her room was spare, save for the paper sprawl on her desk, and devoid of most material possessions. The garish cover of Taking the Thief would have been the only decorative detail in the room.Â
She went to the old, peeling chest that the Inn supplied and rummaged within. Most of her clothes lay tucked away in there, and she rarely gave much care to how they were arranged or folded til she had to wear them. The same could not be said of a thick towel of a rich dark hue and a rather expensive bearing, however, which she had carefully washed, dried and folded separately from the rest of the mess in the chest. She took this out now, giving it a couple of curious sniffs; the recent washing it'd undergone hadn't dispelled the subtle earthy, yet pleasant, smell it had to it. It smelt, indeed, of a different world altogether.Â
It was then that she made the connection. He'd said as much about his sense of hearing. He'd also made that face on at least one or two other occasions, though she never perceived its reasons til now.Â
She hurried out of the room with this epiphany and the large towel bundled in her arms. "Am I too loud, Xavarian? Do I hurt your ears? Do I?" She was looking both amused and actually apologetic, for once; then, as she held out the towel to him, she gave a smile, a soft, warm one that spoke of that secret meeting they'd shared.
[sub]Avis Inkwood | Qara Qalli
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journal/tumblr[/sub]
