Blue, Blue, Blue is My World

Sable’s realization was belated as she realized he had in fact extended a hand to help her if she had needed it. Thankfully she hadn’t, but that hadn’t kept Fawn from growling low in his chest. The man seemed to rock back on his heels, looking as though he were about ready to turn tail and flee. Now wasn’t that just interesting? The fierce emotion gnawing at her insides subsided, and she took the moment to calm her companion, so the day didn’t end in bloodshed unnecessarily. Afterwards, she spoke, her tone acidic, enough so that she swore she heard his breath catch. Well…she was definitely being a bitch.

After a moment’s hesitation, he laughed, the sound more a nervous titter than anything, one hand lifting to rub the back of his neck, shaking his head. The gesture sent messy blond hair everywhere as he did so, drawing her attention and effectively distracting her. She refocused on him when he spoke once more, his words followed by a lopsided half smile, still shadowed by nerves, but definitely cute. Her heart flopped in her chest, the traitor, and despite herself a grudging half smile curved her lips in return.

“Is that right?” She murmured, more to herself than anything, in the brief interim before he went on to answer her other question. At first, he seemed unsure, as though he had no real destination in mind, before he seemed to remember himself, fumbling with the edge of his coat in a gesture which belied his nerves. He asked if she were going to the festival, and then went on to explain he was hoping to stay there the night, then head into Faline the following morning. One brow rose as she listened, and she took a few moments to scrutinize him.

She had a nagging feeling he wasn’t actually there for the festival at all, though she knew she had no real evidence to back that up. Aside from his…very generous helping of nerves. “I wasn’t necessarily planning on it. We aren’t too fond of crowds.” She replied after a pause, her gaze flicking over to Fawn, where he stood by her side, watchful and still not entirely appeased. When Sable took the opportunity to examine the man a bit better, she noted with an almost detached sense of interest that he was handsome, a warm countenance, one pleasing to her eyes.

A slow grin curved those scarred lips of hers as she chuckled lowly. “Although if you’re going maybe I might go after all.” She all but purred, a woman who knew what it was, or in this case, who it was she was interested in. There were no such qualms as being proper which held her back. After a moment’s pause, she offered her hand to him to shake. “Aesira Medea. Most call me Sable.”