It’s an easy transition. The little snake periscopes up to intercept Richard’s reach, scales brushing down to the point of her tail as she cycles herself out of Wysteria’s fingers and into his. He gives her a lift to his lapel from there, and she winds oily slow into the turn of his collar against his neck, lacking the urgency of a cockroach or centipede caught out in the light. Before it vanishes from sight, the end of her tail curls to catch on the collar’s edge, and holds there, unmoving. Speaking of:
“He used to have a tail.”
Somehow this is the one answer he chooses (or manages) to give, amidst the tumble of other questions around it.
Technically Loxley’s tieflinghood is a matter of public record.
He listens to the rest with a notable reduction in intensity from his moments-ago resistance to every implication. Still a little too heavy on eye contact -- the look of a man trying very hard to read her mind.
“Nor do I,” he assures her, in the end. The brush of his contempt for local politics is keeled subtle and as dry as the scales she just freed herself of, tight in his chest. “I am a healer, Miss Poppell, but I would like for you to tell me more about your studies here before I submit to interrogation.”
no subject
Date: 2020-07-16 11:18 pm (UTC)“He used to have a tail.”
Somehow this is the one answer he chooses (or manages) to give, amidst the tumble of other questions around it.
Technically Loxley’s tieflinghood is a matter of public record.
He listens to the rest with a notable reduction in intensity from his moments-ago resistance to every implication. Still a little too heavy on eye contact -- the look of a man trying very hard to read her mind.
“Nor do I,” he assures her, in the end. The brush of his contempt for local politics is keeled subtle and as dry as the scales she just freed herself of, tight in his chest. “I am a healer, Miss Poppell, but I would like for you to tell me more about your studies here before I submit to interrogation.”