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Myrika is by Kiri!
His words of praise astonished her, and she peered at him with mounting suspicion, though he'd spoken with such gentleness -- the tawny woman considered him a long time, and Ithiel refused to meet her gaze throughout this time, directing his carnelian-hued eyes off to the distance, away from her. She believed he truly did not understand, but she still wanted him to understand.
It's not -- them. It's just hard to shake, that's all, she said, groping for a reason. In truth, she could not explain why she allowed the children of Thornloe -- adults now, but children in her mind still -- to pin her in her place still. Thanks, though, she added, shrugging. I didn't think you'd value skills like that... I mean, you're so good at what you do, she said, frowning. What he did was scout -- and kill. The arrow he'd shot into the side of Halo's attacker proved that well enough, though it was her jaws that had dealt the killing blow.
What I do is different from what you do is different from what Ezekiel does is different from what Vesper does, he offered. Skills are meant to be different from one to the other to better the whole. You know that, he said, a rare smile crossing his dust-colored muzzle. Ezekiel has taught you that much, I hope, he added, more of a grumble this time. Myrika peered at him quizzically, but did not pry. Ezekiel taught her a great many things since her arrival in Inferni, but she saw no reason he should seek to educate her specifically.
Why, though? Leave childhood taunts in the past. I encountered a bully or two in Scintilla, early on in my training. I put them down. You did not -- if you fought them, would you feel better? It was a question she would ask, and she gave him a small smile. Her response was delayed, however -- her first instinct was to dismiss the idea entirely. Why should she feel better for fighting her tormentors? Upon turning the idea more, she found she rather liked it.
Maybe.
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