WOTD: Canonical.
Oh muse, you failed me... & err, if you would like it to be? Old Lucia made an appearance. Haha.
Lucia watched as Zalen shook himself down, rain drops flying everywhere and his fur sticking up. For a moment or two, her eyes showed signs of laughter, but it passed as quickly as it came about. She was no longer able to process such things. Positivity just wasn’t in the cards for her.
He had called her lucky. This made Lucia’s lip curl, undecided of whether it was an amused smile or a disagreeing frown. Maybe it was both, but either way, she did look very strange. “I wouldn’t call it luck,” she paused, pushing herself up from the soggy earth. Soil clung to her fur, a small dip now present beneath the tree where she had once been sitting. Now on her feet, she looked back at the male and continued to speak, though tiny slivers of amusement had begun to steal her voice. “It wasn’t so much to avenge my mother either,” she paused, a twitch in her lip that tried so hard to be a smile. Lucia didn’t allow it. “Mostly just for a bit of fun… The avenging part didn’t really come into it until afterwards…”
She watched him shake his head. She had the sudden urge to ruffle his hair, but the ebony female fought against it. There was something drawing her to this male, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. She decided in her mind it was something to do with charm. He was charming her, getting her to trust him… or attempting to. Lucia would not allow herself to be fooled. She couldn’t let her guard down, yet as she began to lose herself in thoughts, trying to persuade herself that she wouldn’t be lead astray again, she heard herself speak. “…You look like a porcupine who has been hit by lightning, you know? It looks quite ridiculous on such a handsome man!”
The words rolled off her tongue without warning, a strange tone in her voice. It was flirtatious, blunt. It was not canonical behaviour for Lucia. Her mind shouted at her, beat her skull from the inside-out. Lucia winced, her face now filled with shock and horror at her unnatural behaviour. What was he doing to her? Why was this happening? She stared at the floor, embarrassed, listening as everything went quiet and she waited for some kind of response. She expected laughter, but the question was, would she get it?