03-03-2011, 10:56 PM
[html] 372.
Ears perked at the man's kind words and she lifted her eyes to him. The closest being to a father figure she had had for the majority of her childhood. Yet in a way they had also been equals, friends. She had never been afraid of upsetting Conor, for that had simply never been an issue in their relationship, and so she did not fear him or his authority, she had only ever respected it, perhaps too deeply. If Conor said to rest, she would rest for as long as he liked her to. "Thank you. My head is healing, slowly though. The wound was deep but soon I think I will be able to leave my greenhouse." The stitches that either Gideon or Farore had set in her skin were crude and unpracticed, but they were covered with the lightly blood spotted cotton gauze she wore now. Nayru couldn't even recalled the memory that would tell her which unskilled hand had knit together the bleeding wound on her head. Trying to only gave her a headache.
The next words that came from the man did not surprise her, but a slight flutter found its way into her chest. Farore was prone to sticking her nose where it did not belong, and it seemed that keeping to herself was too hard of a task lately. Who else had her sister been conversing with? "I hope she did not cause you any trouble." And yet Conor smiled, and it was a smile she was familiar with. It was the same kind smile he had given her countless times when she was child and when she was still capable of playing like a fool in front of him, for however short that phase of her life had been. She had grown up too quickly in many ways, and yet even now she was a naive child before him, ruby eyes questioning and her words coming out as unsure whispers. "I did not know Farore was coming, but she wishes to stay with me a while, if you will allow of course." And yet Conor still beamed at her and Nayru couldn't help but return the facial expression just then with her gentle half smile.
Ears perked at the man's kind words and she lifted her eyes to him. The closest being to a father figure she had had for the majority of her childhood. Yet in a way they had also been equals, friends. She had never been afraid of upsetting Conor, for that had simply never been an issue in their relationship, and so she did not fear him or his authority, she had only ever respected it, perhaps too deeply. If Conor said to rest, she would rest for as long as he liked her to. "Thank you. My head is healing, slowly though. The wound was deep but soon I think I will be able to leave my greenhouse." The stitches that either Gideon or Farore had set in her skin were crude and unpracticed, but they were covered with the lightly blood spotted cotton gauze she wore now. Nayru couldn't even recalled the memory that would tell her which unskilled hand had knit together the bleeding wound on her head. Trying to only gave her a headache.
The next words that came from the man did not surprise her, but a slight flutter found its way into her chest. Farore was prone to sticking her nose where it did not belong, and it seemed that keeping to herself was too hard of a task lately. Who else had her sister been conversing with? "I hope she did not cause you any trouble." And yet Conor smiled, and it was a smile she was familiar with. It was the same kind smile he had given her countless times when she was child and when she was still capable of playing like a fool in front of him, for however short that phase of her life had been. She had grown up too quickly in many ways, and yet even now she was a naive child before him, ruby eyes questioning and her words coming out as unsure whispers. "I did not know Farore was coming, but she wishes to stay with me a while, if you will allow of course." And yet Conor still beamed at her and Nayru couldn't help but return the facial expression just then with her gentle half smile.