11-01-2018, 03:46 PM
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A sharp retort bubbled in her throat, clearly irked that the demon sounded so bored. Her uncle interrupted her thoughts, reminding her that she had indeed caused a tornado, a fact, she realized, he must've received from his younger brother, Séamus. Likely, he told her father too. Well. That was all good and well, though she'd have liked to have more control before the whole family knew about all their discoveries. That way she could show them just what she was capable of. Actions not words.
She could fight now too. At least... Better now than before.
Her tail flicked, absently. Keona wouldn't mind sending a tornado straight through the Pitt's fortress. They deserved it. Even if they did rebuild, she'd like to at least cast down some justice. This thought she keeps to herself as she tilts her head upward, listening to Raziel quietly. Fight or flight response. Although meant to be reassuring, she felt a little down, and Caesar did little to encourage either. Not think?
She frowned, a question on her tongue but soon found herself bemused by her uncle's next remark. "[abbr=I don't understand]Ní thuigim, uncail,[/abbr]" she murmured quietly, even though she had began to feel the creeping cold crawling up her fur. The leaf fluttered back into the air as she lifted up a paw, aware that another had emerged from the feeling of more eyes on her fur. "... Do you think it does?" A wary question.
Rain. Hadn't uncle Séamus told her to think of rain? "Can I make it rain?" I'd like that.
She could fight now too. At least... Better now than before.
Her tail flicked, absently. Keona wouldn't mind sending a tornado straight through the Pitt's fortress. They deserved it. Even if they did rebuild, she'd like to at least cast down some justice. This thought she keeps to herself as she tilts her head upward, listening to Raziel quietly. Fight or flight response. Although meant to be reassuring, she felt a little down, and Caesar did little to encourage either. Not think?
She frowned, a question on her tongue but soon found herself bemused by her uncle's next remark. "[abbr=I don't understand]Ní thuigim, uncail,[/abbr]" she murmured quietly, even though she had began to feel the creeping cold crawling up her fur. The leaf fluttered back into the air as she lifted up a paw, aware that another had emerged from the feeling of more eyes on her fur. "... Do you think it does?" A wary question.
Rain. Hadn't uncle Séamus told her to think of rain? "Can I make it rain?" I'd like that.
tá mé i dtiúin — ✯