[ It's a painβ having to stay up so late just to make appearances, that she's enthused about the festival. That she definitely intends to participate, for sure, outside of the scantily clad clothing she's arranged on her frame.
It shimmers (another dress, this time a halter, length caressing the floor) when the light hits her just right, as she surveys the fighting and caged townsfolk with a drink she hasn't touched in hand. She's about to wander somewhere through the crowd for a break, for some time alone to recuperate the energy required to avoid staring at so many genitals and going 'oooo, sexy' over and over when someone looks suspiciously her way, when Lottie turns to ask her a question.
And it's a harmless question, really! A normal one. An expected one. Lottie would ask this, too, if she weren't as familiar with the culture, the needs of the people (them), here.
She doesn't answer with that, though, something well thought out and congenial. She answers with silence, a smile stuck on her face as something about her gaze β like she isn't even looking at her, or she's looking too much at her? Too close, too intense and distant all at once β unnerves her. ]
Ahβ [ Holy shit? Get it together, she thinks. She laughs to break the silence (well, between the sounds of fighting and people cooing towards them from the cage). ] I think it's just all about preference, you know?
offerings to ulanti, a!
It shimmers (another dress, this time a halter, length caressing the floor) when the light hits her just right, as she surveys the fighting and caged townsfolk with a drink she hasn't touched in hand. She's about to wander somewhere through the crowd for a break, for some time alone to recuperate the energy required to avoid staring at so many genitals and going 'oooo, sexy' over and over when someone looks suspiciously her way, when Lottie turns to ask her a question.
And it's a harmless question, really! A normal one. An expected one. Lottie would ask this, too, if she weren't as familiar with the culture, the needs of the people (them), here.
She doesn't answer with that, though, something well thought out and congenial. She answers with silence, a smile stuck on her face as something about her gaze β like she isn't even looking at her, or she's looking too much at her? Too close, too intense and distant all at once β unnerves her. ]
Ahβ [ Holy shit? Get it together, she thinks. She laughs to break the silence (well, between the sounds of fighting and people cooing towards them from the cage). ] I think it's just all about preference, you know?