Dor regarded him with absorbed eyes when he remarked upon complicated journeys and complicated people. "I don't think I'm complicated," she admitted, feeling a bit wretched for it because he seemed to like the idea of her being so.
"But I am a kelvic, yes," she nodded, ruffling tangles of sunset hair into her face, a truer red than found in most due to an incredible lack of sun bleaching. A smile shook itself up, something amused in the frame of her face, and she pressed one finger down on a glimmering, eerie vein snaking through the Isur's arm. She watched intently, seeming to expect something to happen. When nothing out of the ordinary did, she huffed a breath and stuffed her hands back into the pockets of her coat.
Steps clomped and stomped, overly loud for a young woman made up of hollow bones and slight stature. Cheeks were a little hollow, or they would be when winter came. It stray wind turned her attention, sharp eyes narrowing on the high flight of a sparrow zooming above them.
"A bird and a girl," she went on to explain, musing while observing the pretty bird in drooping flight. It was with no poetry she observed the sparrow, however, no sense of community. She looked at the sparrow as if she wanted to eat it.
"Yes, the sky. The whole sky. An Up. Kalinor doesn't have one. It only has the gorge, a giant Down," and here she slanted him a look, humor bubbling up. She was mocking herself, not as slow as one might think.
Then it was often the error of man to mistake an alien sentience for a lack of wits. |