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Myrika is by me!
Though Myrika remained unconvinced, she realized it was probably a good time to stop talking. And despite her realization, when she ceased, the little words Vesper offered only served to alarm her more, and reaffirm her notion of present silence's unendurable awkwardness. Her big ears went half-flat, then all the way flat, then half-way again, and she picked at one of the larger of the stones beneath her hand. With a half-hearted toss, she threw it into the bay. An oncoming wave swallowed whatever splash the pebble might have made.
Did I make you angry? she murmured, meek as a Quintus might have addressed her. You're really quiet. There was no accusation in her voice, but plenty of apprehension. She might have insisted too much about the horses, or talked to much, or maybe Vesper really was angry about the change in leadership -- maybe it was as serious as feeling slighted over this? If so, why had she even asked? It wasn't as if Vesper would have told her these things if she was feeling them -- or at least, Myrika wouldn't have told anyone, if she had been in the Centurion's place with those feelings.
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