Her fingers were about to brush against the neck of the guitar when Mars suddenly snapped to consciousness, giving her a threatening look that she would rather have never seen. She had come so close to him, and really there was no reason for him not to notice her there, so why did he wait for the very last second to snap at her? Luckily, when his voice came, it was level. She had given an audible gasp and a look of panic crossed her face at his reaction, and if his voice had been mean she probably would have straight out started bawling. As it was, her eyes seemed teary enough. Her mouth opened but she was at a loss for words, so it snapped shut just as quickly. Finally, in frustration, she stomped a few steps back, put her hands on her hips, and bent over to Mars’s height. “If ya don’t wanta share your stuff, then just say so.”
But the brisk apology was enough to balm the little wound he’d picked, and she straightened herself back up and was as cheery as a daisy in two seconds flat. She should have already noticed something off with this character, should have taken note of the muttering, or the lack of focus (or was it too much focus?), but Orin lived in her own head, too, and paid no heed. Her smile returned. “Russo!” she boomed the name like she was calling to the gods. “Oh! You are a new member of Cour des Miracles! We have Russo’s here! I mean, I’m sure you knew that. Are you looking for them? I’ve met Liliya and Rurik. I like them. Rurik gave me a fire drink once,” she clutched at her throat with the memory of the alcohol. “It burned for days!”
She scooted up next to him and slipped down into a crouch at his feet, peering up past his guitar and into his shaded eyes. “You didn’t answer my question. You were too busy snarling at me,” she was joking. “What is that?” She held her hand out gesturing to it again, but this time didn’t try to lay her fingers on it.