Tell My Muse What Your Muse Honestly Thinks Of Them. Be Long And Descriptive Or As Short And Sweet As

Tell my muse what your muse honestly thinks of them. Be long and descriptive or as short and sweet as you want

Is mayonnaise an instrument?

Kaleh'a: "Wha--i feel like this is a reference I'm not getting... No?"

Bryn: Glaring at anonymous, arms crossed. "No."

OOC: I get the reference, but I have to agree, nope! Mayo is not an instrument!

Her blush, her tail! The archer memorized that expression, the flush of her cheeks, the way her tail curled around her leg, the entire pose and expression so innocently cute as his own tail curled up behind him, his eyes trailing over her again as he watched her with those lively eyes, wondering if she knew that the expression and tail movement she had just made meant a particular kind of happiness. The kind a handsome Miqo'te might be pleased to see! Not that he would push it, no, he would never in her own house. Outside was fair game!

Still, Kaleh'a was beyond pleased to hear her accept his offer to help repair her slice of heaven, his tail swaying nice and slow as he watched her face light up with wonder at the braided feather. He met her gaze with the warmth of the sun reflected from the moon, his ears wiggling to show he had no hidden intent, and making sure she had all the room needed to pick up the brooch without having to touch him directly.

Her slow steps, the way she was so curious but hesitant, it just served to make his grin larger, knowing he had caught her interest and that she was Just the brush of her claws on his skin, and then she had it, and he got to watch all over again how she admired it. And that admiration had a warm, fuzzy feeling rising in his chest as he let out a little noise not unlike a purr.

Cyra's smile was beyond adorable, from the way her lips turned up to the body language of her tail and ears, it all just confirmed his gift had found the mark, and was even good enough to be put on right then! He watched as she fastened it to her scarf, a little snort of laughter escaping as, understandably, it went on crooked, and he gave her a small bow at her thanks.

"You're most welcome, Cyra! I'm glad you like it. And, as I thought, it really does bring out your eyes." His tail curled around to the front of his leg, flicking in a way that said he really believed it, before he glanced behind him at the door, taking a few steps to it and opening it for the owner of the cabin. "Now, shall we be off? Need anything before we go?"

Cyra was often a woman of few words. She took care in the verbal translation of her thoughts as every first draft was often quite indicative of the Keeper under her carefully crafted mask. Yet his compliment in combination with his clear visual inspection of her form and attire had created a crack in her perfect false identity. She had been flattered before, but to be this exposed by it had her face flushing.

She had a difficult relationship with her appearance. The Healer didn't even keep a mirror in her room. It was rare for her to take pride in her appearance, but with just the simple handful of words, she had considered looking over herself for any flaws. Just this once, for a fleeting moment, did she wish to see how he painted her in his world. Her ears flattened against her head, but not out of fear. Cyra couldn't identify the emotion. Even as her cheeks grew hot, and her tail curled up and around the front of her legs, she still was left with a blank mind and a basket-full of feelings.

The flash of blue in his hand brought her attention back to the present, a welcome distraction from her stricken state. Her eyes followed the brilliant color as he pointed to various surfaces in the hall, and in some slight movements her head also dipped and bobbed to follow. Her pupils expanded for a moment as it kept her attention. Still learning to keep herself under control, she had to blink a few times to refocus on his face.

"Uh, yeah... sure." She hadn't heard a damn thing he said after the compliment. Admittedly, she wasn't even sure what she was agreeing to. Cyra laughed politely with him at his impression, still unsure of what sparked her answer.

"Hmm?" The trinket in his open hand caught her attention. Her ears returning once more to their natural upright position, and her tail relaxed, flicking inquisitively at her side. "...for me?"

It was all she could get out after he suggested how it would accentuate an aspect of her appearance. These small thing absolutely chipped away at her, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. The mask was not nearly as perfect as she believed, and it was clear that she needed far more practice in it's use before she could consider it comfortable enough to keep on.

The Keeper looked up into the moonlit blues of the hunter, that same feeling still lingering. She read every inch of his face, his posture, the way his ears angled on his head, even the gentle roll of his tail as he stood with an open palm in her home. Cyra hadn't many things that she treasured. Most were lessons or, things she couldn't physically hold...but this? This was more than just a token of thanks in her eyes. The look of wonder traveled back down to the braided feather in his hand. She appreciated that he kept his distance, even as she walked forward to close the gap. Her slitted pupils wide with emotion as she delicately reached out with her clawed fingers to gently take it from his hand.

The hint of a smile that curled the corners of her lips was more than a simple, polite gesture. The unexpected gift meant more to her than she could express. She cradled it in her own hand, resting her staff in the nook of her elbow while she turned it over. Her lips parted in a little smile as she silently appreciated its craftsmanship. After joyfully inspecting it for a few quiet moments, she excitedly began fastening it to her patterned scarf. Without a mirror, it was likely to sit rather awkwardly on the garment, but she didn't care. It was a gift, and she wanted to display it proudly.

"Th-thank you..." She said sheepishly. She wasn't even sure if those words alone would be enough to tell him her appreciation for it.

Cyra would never forget this.

Android meanwhile:

Popup, "You're ten days out of date! Want to update right now? No questions asked, three minutes, in and out."

Three minutes later.

"Welcome back! Enjoy your update!"

The gentle smile she gave was warm and genuine, and he wondered what her past was like compared to his. Surrounded by family, similar to his own life, his three younger sisters full of life, a loving mother, and an honest, hard working father. It was different than most Miqo'te tribes, the only real similarity the fact that his mother clearly led it, but she had remained only interested in his father, no move to increase their little tribe, and they had remained a group of two, then three, four, five, six before his mother had crossed her arms and given her father a look that said "No more!" And the blonde haired Miqo'te had laughed and agreed, focusing on providing for his children with his carpentry job.

Her comment about the feather pulled him back to the present, his eyes flicking to hers as he reached up, brushed a hand along the feather, and pulled it forward to drape over his head, and into his face, laughing as he gave her a pleading look through the blue feathers. "But it likes its new home! I couldn't possibly remove it now!" Even as he said it though, he pulled it out of his quiver, holding it by the calamus, and waving it slowly back and forth as he hummed thoughtfully. "I bet I could make a good charm from this."

He did though have to agree with her about staying underground in the sandy dunes of Thanaland. Everything he had heard about the country spoke to its heat, and his time in Gridania and exploring a few underground ruins had proven it was a considerable change in temperature--and dampness--going below the surface. In Thanaland, he could only imagine that was incredibly important, and tied into her family's job as well. He opened his mouth, to ask how big her family was, but he let it pop closed silently, his head tilting, and deciding to not ask too many questions of someone he had just met, letting her continue as he tilted his head with a nod at her joke, eyes sparkling as he laughed.

"Typically, I don't try and take on a pack of Ziz. I can shoot fast, but not that fast!" He turned, the feather in his hands dipping towards her, as he hummed thoughtfully, and peeked around it. "You would heal me after, right? Or during? Make sure I have a chance to get more arrows to help with that, right?" To be honest, given his flicking tail and upturned ears, he wasn't quite sure how much he could trust her healing. He knew to have the title of White Mage, she had to have a decent, if not highly skilled ability to heal with just Aether. Coupled with his ability to field dress, learned from trial and error, he imagined there wasn't much the pair together could not heal, besides fatal wounds perhaps. Her laugh though, he would not mind hearing that more, his eyes twinkling like stars as he brushed the moon-kissed tips of his hair up slightly, adjusting his hat as his ears wiggled at her, a show of appreciation for the joyous sound as he turned back towards their destination...

He almost missed it, the cabin covered in moss, blending in with the roots under it, the trunk behind it, the logs that made it up neither rotted nor hollow, still strong and holding if his eyes were to be believed, slowing his approach as he took in the surroundings and the well camouflaged house. His nose tilted slightly, the smell of something like rain from the damp moss reaching his nose, and filling the air with the smell of forest in general, making it even more difficult for say an angry animal to track her here. There were some things that could certainly be touched up, missing shingles, the roof carrying a few holes, but overall...

"Wow, I like it!" He truly did, the aesthetic of the cabin reminding him of his old tree-top beds he used to frequent, and smelling like it too. He bounced up to the front of it, hearing the little whisper she said behind him, peering at the door, but not approaching it fully, waiting for her to catch up and open the door, remembering her request to wait outside as he turned to her, and then in an exaggerated show, held the feather up and let it form a little arch over the top of her door, purring out as she approached. "Welcome home!"

That is hauntingly familiar. I hope it doesn't get brought up again.

The thought of a small village reminded her of the vague bits of memory she could gather from when she was a child. Things she wished to never cross her mind again as the pain attached to them was more than she wanted to bear. Rather than offering him a verbal response to his tale, she simply offered him a gentle smile in return for what he shared.

"Perhaps that feather would be better being carried rather than stuffed in your quiver." She chuckled. At this point, she believed he was doing it on purpose. The fluffy end of her tail briefly swished to the side in amusement.

Cyra listened to the brief summary of his past. Hers was short and sweet, but he seemed to enjoy talking about his family. The way he proudly held himself when mentioning the obstacles he had to overcome to be where he was in the present said a lot about the kind of person he was. Prideful, for sure. Yet, mixed in with all of that was a Miqo'te who had a gentleness and a want to aid others. Everyone had a little bit of wanting to save the world, she just hadn't realized the majority of them happened to exist in Eorzea.

At his question, Cyra paused again. She should have expected for others to ask about it, especially if they had never left the lush greens of the Black Shroud. Even with how well-traveled the fledgling healer was, she hadn't set foot in the hot dunes and canyons of Thanalan. She was going off of the things she had read in books, or what little Bryn told her of the region.

"It's not always dust and sand, but it certainly is hot. Makes sense why my ancestors chose to stay underground in the mines." She chuckled. Cyra hoped he wouldn't ask any more about it. All she would be able to feed him were lines from books that lined her library. In truth, she wanted to travel more. The trip from Garlemald to the Black Shroud took her through Coerthas, a cold and unforgiving snowscape. The Black Shroud could be hot, but not nearly as warm as the desert of Thanalan. Even if it would make her uncomfortable, she still wanted to see it for herself.

"Best make sure you're well stocked for a pack of angry Ziz, then!" She crinkled her nose with a teasing smile as she spoke to him. "They're not all bad, but when they're on a rampage, best be ready!" She laughed.

She couldn't remember the last time she laughed this much. Her sole focus had been on her studies as of late, and it definitely had taken its toll on her. If she wasn't careful, she could become addicted to his company. Much like her mentor, Cyra schooled her emotions back, gently resuming the solitary healer façade as the cabin came into view.

It was quite dilapidated. Still had a few missing shingles on the roof, but with the large tree that cradled the humble abode in its roots, she didn't have much to worry about with the rain. The moss that grew over nearly every inch of the logs that made up her home almost had it completely camouflaged in the surroundings. The place definitely looked like it had been abandoned for some time. The smell of it though was an absolute wonder. If the healer had fallen in love with the smell of a cooked meal, then this was her true love. Moss did not grow anywhere in the cold reaches of Garlemald. She didn't even know the smell of petrichor until she had reached the border of the forest. The Miqo'te took in a deep breath, appreciating the refreshing aroma of the forest's bounty.

"Home, sweet home." She whispered.

I made it home!

I'm exhausted.

But...

I am ready to write!