[ Lauralae almost says something about knowing the sensation, being bound to the Archfey without consent nor consideration, but that seems a notion that might ruin the moment. Instead, she bites her tongue, almost literally, and focuses on the moment.
It is strange to her, to consider anyone friend, and were someone to ask who her friends in this place were she would hesitate to answer. There are people she is fond of - Luci, Alia, Matt, Astarion himself - but friendship? She would never dare to name any of the companions she has met here as such, as if being known as a friend of hers would be some form of ill blessing.
Instead, she frowns at Astarion, giving him what might be intended to be a stern look from under her lashes, but just comes across as a little bit of a pout with her expression. ]
I am not sweet. [ No one would ever call her that.
Climbing into their makeshift den, feeling strangely at home, Lauralae settles into it and curls up. The only thing missing is the comfort of his arms around her, but she doesnβt have the voice to ask for it. Sheβs quiet instead. ]
no subject
It is strange to her, to consider anyone friend, and were someone to ask who her friends in this place were she would hesitate to answer. There are people she is fond of - Luci, Alia, Matt, Astarion himself - but friendship? She would never dare to name any of the companions she has met here as such, as if being known as a friend of hers would be some form of ill blessing.
Instead, she frowns at Astarion, giving him what might be intended to be a stern look from under her lashes, but just comes across as a little bit of a pout with her expression. ]
I am not sweet. [ No one would ever call her that.
Climbing into their makeshift den, feeling strangely at home, Lauralae settles into it and curls up. The only thing missing is the comfort of his arms around her, but she doesnβt have the voice to ask for it. Sheβs quiet instead. ]
It is wonderful. You have my thanks, Astarion.