cRess
While Cress has certainly lived in her years on Beqanna, she’s not sure she would call it thriving. To her, the only good things in her life are her children. Her mother is dead, Flamevein and Ledger have both vanished to who knows where, and her father is a grumpy old man who would rather be left alone than anything else. Her one true home was destroyed long ago and most of the friends she’s made along the way probably don’t even remember her.
She tries not to dwell on the past too much, because it hurts. She doesn’t like to think of the pain her family and loved ones have caused her, or to think back to the torture she had been dragged through just because the Dark God needed some new playthings.
Dalten shakes and a layer of dust takes to the sky, slowly dissipating into the air. “It’s been entirely too long,” she agrees with a nod, brown eyes sparkling as she smiles. Though their conversation so long ago had been brief, she would still consider him a friend. Then again, Cress hardly meets anyone she wouldn’t think of as friend. It’s perhaps her hamartia, her fatal flaw. One day she will trust someone too much... but she tries not to think about that.
She can sense the lie in his voice when he speaks, but she doesn’t push it. She watches him as his eyes trace her body, and she wonders if it is so obvious that she has bared children. She doesn’t think so, but she has never seen herself through the eyes of a stranger and she is suddenly self-conscious.
He assumes that she has been well and she chuckles dryly. “I would not call it well,” she tells him. “I’m certainly missing a couple body parts that I’m sure were still there the last time we talked”—though her lack of ears could certainly be missed if one wasn’t looking closely—“and it seems any relationship I build is doomed to fail. But other than that, sure, I’ve been well.”
@Dalten
infected.