[All of that, she absorbs in silence. Particularly the end, at which she sits straighter until he is through speaking, only to drop some of the stiff posture - if one did not know her one might think her slumping.
Y'shtola touches the wine glass before here where bowl meets stem, with two fingers. That Thancred emerges from the Lifestream with hardly a change - as he assures, and so she can but presume the injury to his face came about later, and 'twould not surprise her for moons spent in the Dravanian mountains with little company and less protection, and primal-minded beastmen about - quells her worries significantly. She knew, from the way Lyse and Alisaie spoke of him, that the sight of him was no surprise in their present...and yet.
But her lips press together tightly, and she glances down at her notes, then some of the crumbs upon the plate, then her fingers, and finally looks Thancred in the eye again. She sighs, but it is gentle and slow enough to be mistaken for a simple exhale.]
'Twas ever a risk. [That she would go forcibly along with him. That she would not emerge even if she did go. ...That he would face a similar fate.] The Twelveswood is not so terrible a harbor for my soon to be drifting soul. And what singular fortune that they are able thereafter to come to my rescue, such as it is.
[Though it has been some weeks now, the events of that night are as heavy on her mind as if they belong to 'yesterday', and none have been able to mitigate that worry; Thancred, though nearly as removed from it as the others, has gone far down the path of undoing those knots.
Likewise does she think she is, perhaps, attributing catastrophe to places where it is not; 'tisn't like her to let her mind run wild so. Y'shtola takes a sip of the wine and puts on a faint, wry smile.]
Pray accept my every apology for the disruption and further danger to your person, Thancred.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-09-02 07:10 pm (UTC)Y'shtola touches the wine glass before here where bowl meets stem, with two fingers. That Thancred emerges from the Lifestream with hardly a change - as he assures, and so she can but presume the injury to his face came about later, and 'twould not surprise her for moons spent in the Dravanian mountains with little company and less protection, and primal-minded beastmen about - quells her worries significantly. She knew, from the way Lyse and Alisaie spoke of him, that the sight of him was no surprise in their present...and yet.
But her lips press together tightly, and she glances down at her notes, then some of the crumbs upon the plate, then her fingers, and finally looks Thancred in the eye again. She sighs, but it is gentle and slow enough to be mistaken for a simple exhale.]
'Twas ever a risk. [That she would go forcibly along with him. That she would not emerge even if she did go. ...That he would face a similar fate.] The Twelveswood is not so terrible a harbor for my soon to be drifting soul. And what singular fortune that they are able thereafter to come to my rescue, such as it is.
[Though it has been some weeks now, the events of that night are as heavy on her mind as if they belong to 'yesterday', and none have been able to mitigate that worry; Thancred, though nearly as removed from it as the others, has gone far down the path of undoing those knots.
Likewise does she think she is, perhaps, attributing catastrophe to places where it is not; 'tisn't like her to let her mind run wild so. Y'shtola takes a sip of the wine and puts on a faint, wry smile.]
Pray accept my every apology for the disruption and further danger to your person, Thancred.