02-17-2020, 09:43 PM
BRUNHILDE
I BET ON LOSING DOGS
If Brunhilde knew that she had disappointed Vastra with her blatant lying, she would balk. Whatever she finds within the shapeshifter (she doesn’t know what it is, the draw—the desire to curl into her strength, perhaps), she respects it. She sees her as an equal, strangely enough. There are not many that Hildy cares for, much less respects, but that level look in Vastra’s eyes has always soothed her. Maybe it’s the aloofness she observed when they had first met, or how Brun perceives Vastra as so rational—either way, she feels like she needs the respect returned. She feels like if this woman doesn’t hold her in high regard, then maybe her perception of herself has always been a lie.
“Vastra,” Brun murmurs with a wistful smile, moving her gaze up to the sky and then gently back to Vastra’s eyes. “It suits you.” She means that, because it is not exactly a beautiful name; but it is certainly a strong one, and what Hildy admires most is the strength she sees in Vastra.
Do you want to go for a fly? Hildy starts to ask, though bites her tongue before the first syllable can come out. She’s never been much of a flyer, and in her head Vastra is terribly elegant in the sky. Brun’s wings make her nervous, and she’s always liked them more for their aesthetic than their function.
Vastra’s near-pleased expression gives her a jolt of strength, and she finally blurts, “Do you want to fly?” Her crackling wings loosen and a small grin lifts her lips. “I’m not very good at it. Maybe you can show me some tricks?” This admission is difficult, but it leaves her mouth smoothly, like she really doesn’t mind that she’s bad at flight. “I bet you can teach me a lot,” she purrs, surprise bubbling in her chest at the unexpected flirt. She blinks, though takes it in stride, feeling as if a little sliver of who she really is has found its way back to her.
“Vastra,” Brun murmurs with a wistful smile, moving her gaze up to the sky and then gently back to Vastra’s eyes. “It suits you.” She means that, because it is not exactly a beautiful name; but it is certainly a strong one, and what Hildy admires most is the strength she sees in Vastra.
Do you want to go for a fly? Hildy starts to ask, though bites her tongue before the first syllable can come out. She’s never been much of a flyer, and in her head Vastra is terribly elegant in the sky. Brun’s wings make her nervous, and she’s always liked them more for their aesthetic than their function.
Vastra’s near-pleased expression gives her a jolt of strength, and she finally blurts, “Do you want to fly?” Her crackling wings loosen and a small grin lifts her lips. “I’m not very good at it. Maybe you can show me some tricks?” This admission is difficult, but it leaves her mouth smoothly, like she really doesn’t mind that she’s bad at flight. “I bet you can teach me a lot,” she purrs, surprise bubbling in her chest at the unexpected flirt. She blinks, though takes it in stride, feeling as if a little sliver of who she really is has found its way back to her.
@[Vastra]
