PM to join Taking Cares (Sloane)

[Konrad Venger]

Konrad watched and judged and let his mind fall into that cold, clinical place that observed, rather than felt or even thought. He could see her movements coming along, and that she'd been practicing. But they were still... he didn't know the word, but they weren't singular yet.

The draw, the slash, the strike, the stab, there were pauses between them all. Slight, shaven ticks in some cases, but enough for a canny fighter to take advantage of. Still, on the whole... he nodded his approval when she said she was finished.

"Good, see yuh've been workin' on it-" he frowned minutely, idea coming to him as he ran over what he'd just seen. "One more thing fer ya t'know..."

He took her dagger and shoved it into his belt, at his side, where it would rest on her own body. Mad sure she was paying attention, and then grabbed the hilt-

"Two moves, now. One makes t'other. First one issa' slash-"

He drew the dagger, pulling it out and across his chest in a reverse grip, tip and sharpened edge slashing out diagonally.

"-an' then you finsih 'em, or follow up with, a stab-"

Then as Sloane watched his arm travel up and to the side, at the peak of the slash he backhanded a stab, down and forward.

"Slash backs 'em off, stab finishes 'em. Either way, y'got two to choose from."

Sloane got her dagger back and Konrad could see the unease pass over her face. She held it in her hands as if it would leap off her palm and strike him, like some deadly snake that only she knew how to pet properly. He really didn't want to belittle her, but... well, he was whom he was.

"Y'won't," he said, with the certainty of a man who just said he was standing on dirt, or he was looking at a woman. "An' if yeh do, well... uf'suffered worse'n youse an' yer little knife an' still staggered me arse away..."

His eyes softened a touch. It was hardly what she wanted to hear, and even he knew that. Khida, Merevaika... those stony bitches had taken lives, he'd wager. Brawled and fought and clawed there way back from the edge of Dira, flesh and blood staining their teeth. He didn't worry about hurting them, because anything he could do to them in a mere sparring session, it wouldn't come close to what the world had doled out to them

Sloane wasn't like that. She'd been stranded and captured and sold and even Konrad got queasy thinking of how she'd spent bells, even days under that wagon, surrounded by bloated bodies... and before that, hearing those Zith things feed.

"Yer gonna get hurt, y'know?"

Konrad spoke as lowly as he could. Usually his voice grated, like metal on stone, but if he lowered it enough, it was... almost like he remembered it as a boy. Just deeper. She'd probably respond better to that, and he didn't need some nerve-addled girl slashing him up out of sheer worry.

"But s'not a real brawl. I ain't gonna tryn' kill ya. You'll get scuffed up n' bruised' an' mebbe get a busted lip, but I... look." He put a hand on her shoulder. Kept it steady and let her feel how unshakable it was. "S'the best way t'learn. Jus' worry 'bout that, ye ken? What I taught ya, what yeh've practiced. Now's the time ya use it. Ev'ry'fin else? Ain't here."

Then he stepped back and tossed his hat to the side. He rolled his shoulder, muscles crackling and settling and the movement seemed to quiver down his torso, his arms, his legs, until he cracked his knuckles.

Pop... pop... pop...

"'member," the man Sloane knew as Hansel said, drawing the kukri that she'd seen before, recently and the first day she met him. "S'a sparring fight. So don't go as fast or as hard as yeh can. I won't be, either. Now... defend yerself."

Konrad gave her a moment. Two. A mercy. Then he stepped towards her, kukri swinging lazily at her left side, curved blade eager to bite into her ribcage.

[Sloane]

Sloane watched carefully as Hansel took the dagger from her and demonstrated the new move, eye's tracking each action and paying close attention to how he was transitioning from one move to the next. His movements made clear how at ease he was with a weapon in his hand, his actions confident and familiar, as if he couldn't care less about the potentially lethal weapon.

She took the blade back gingerly, nodding slowly as he spoke. The amount of times she'd injured herself learning to craft bow was ridiculous, whether it was due to slipping with a carving knife or having a poorly made bow explode in her face as she went to shoot it. She'd had her fair share of injuries, just as any other craftsman, and she didn't know why this should be any different, it just was. And, as Hansel had said, what could she really do to injure him? The tension in her relaxed slowly as he spoke, voice lower and softer than usual, his demeanor gentler than Sloane ever remembered seeing before. "Okay." She breathed, as he stepped back, shaking out her hands and rolling her shoulders. "Alright, I'll be fine, I know I can do this."

She adjusted and readjusted her grip as Hansel prepared himself. Whereas his height and muscle may have set some even further on edge, Sloane felt comforted somewhat, reassured that there was little she'd be able to do to actually hurt the man. Sloane steadied herself with a few deep breaths as Hansel drew his own weapon. He'd clearly slowed his movements, and Sloane hesitated a bare moment before she brought her dagger to the side, stepping back with one foot to block the blow. Sloane winced slightly as the two blades collided, scraping and sliding briefly against one another.

The blades bounced off one another and Sloane rocked forward a step, mimicking the blow to swipe slowly towards his side. Her movements were still cautious, leaving more than enough time for either Hansel to knock her blade away, or for Sloane herself to divert it out of harms way herself. After, Sloane would try out the combination he'd taught her a few moments earlier, bringing the blade up in a slow slash, and then back down with a stab. With the stabbing motion Sloane was especially careful not to misjudge where the tip of the dagger was going, or how close it would come to Hansel's chest.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

Ain't here. There were his words, and he wasn't lying. The world shrank to the dirt they stood on, the weapons they held, and the two of them swinging them. All the feelings and fears that colored their lives vanished; they didn't matter in the air between them, be it in a training circle, a fighting pit, a battlefield or a stinking tavern in Sunberth.

You can't take anything with you in there. You survive. You win. You make sure the other guy doesn't. That's all.

She learned quickly; same speed as him, fast enough to exert herself, slow enough for him to jerk his kukri back around and-

-block her swipe to his side, clanging metal ringing up his arm as he did. In the tick as the weapons joined he held her eyes and rasped-

"Good. If yer enemy has a good idea, steal it. Long as y'win, who cares?"

Then she was breaking away from him, pushing his kukri to the side and slashing up and to his side, forcing him back. Konrad backpedaled and saw the tip of the knife swing past his face-

-but what next? He had a pretty good idea, and as the dagget stabbed down towards him he-

-stepped forward, closer, seeing Sloane's eyes widen in horror that she might actually stab him-

-only for his free hand to snap out and grab her wrist beneath the hand holding it. Her stab halted dead in mid-air, Konrad's muscles twinged but little more than that. For another tick they were frozen there, faces inches apart, breathing heavily, her stab still above her head, his kukri at his side.

"Well? Now what?"

However long she took, whatever she said, it would be too long, and he'd shake her by the wrist he gripped. Konrad didn't think about scaring her, or deflating her, or the fear for him in her eyes. He wasn't some petching Quartermaster or well-mannered tutor from Ravok.

The world was cruel and unfair. Best she get used to that.

"C'mon, girl! Don't jus' freeze up! What now?! Yer enemy blocked ya, stopped yer strike, has yer dagger pinned, so what now?!"

Konrad waited for another few, long ticks, hoping that the girl was savvy enough to remember she had three limbs she wasn't using at her disposal. Just because she was in a knife-fight didn't mean she just had to use knives.

If she didn't, Konrad would push her away from him, hard enough to send her staggering and skittering across the grass, face an unholy mix of disappointment and frustration as he leveled his kukri at her.

"That was a warning. Next time, it'll be my fist knockin' youse back. Now come at me!"

But for the moment, he was still frozen there, with her, naught but panting breath and whistling wind between them. Silently, Konrad hoped she'd remember. Because he had no intention of going easier on her afterward.

[Sloane]

Her blow came to a jarring stop and Sloane blinked in shock, gazing up at Hansel uncertainly. She waited for him to move, for him to return a blow in kind or put her on her arse, but instead he stood, waiting. No surprise She thought. He knows what to do, I'm the one that needs to learn. She reminded herself, chewing at her lip nervously as her eye's darted around, going from where he held her wrist, to her her dagger, and then his kukri in quick succession. She knew that she needed to react, but was at a loss for exactly what to do, uncertain and to insecure with herself to try anything else, lest she do something wrong.

So instead, Sloane merely huffed, and twisted against him, mind running through possible options, analyzing and beating them to death in her mind. "Well? Now what?"[/b] Hansel demanded, and her face twisted in frustration, at a loss for what her next move should be. "I don't know, just let me thi--" He cut her off, giving her a good shake that almost knocked her off her balance, pulled up onto her toes as she was. Annoyed, she tugged against his grip again, getting little give in return.

Sloane snarled, determination and fierce frustration clear on her face, eye's blazing. The worried thoughts and half ideas fled her mind, and the young walahk moved on a combination of instinct and irritation. She tugged her arm down with all her strength and jabbed up with her knee, trying with all her might to land the blow to his stomach. She was shorter than him, and far weaker, but she did her best, her other hand coming up to wrap around his own forearm, tugging him down and closer to her own level as she raised her knee up.

If his grip loosened, she would twist away, bounce a few feet out of his reach and raise her weapon, determination and a feral enjoyment clear on her face. If not she'd bare her teeth and thrash like a wild thing, free hand leaving his arm to shove at him, legs kicking out at his knees and stomach... Either way, the woman would enjoy herself, savoring the opportunity to let loose the violence and frustration she had pent up over the season.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

Painful as it was, Konrad could have burst out laughing when he felt that bony little knee smack into his midsection. Half a tick before, it had been confusion filling his mind, when he saw Sloane's other hand flash up and grab his wrist, three hands in some weird chain, all linked to the knife-

He had enough time for one, minute frown before he was yanked down. Sloane was hardly in his weight class, but she had weight, and all of it pulling down at once was enough to make him almost double over, just as-

The impact wasn't enough to wind him, but he still grunted out half a breath, anyway. Lessened his grip just enough for the girl to jump away, feet rustling across the grass and out of his reach. He looked up at her and felt a smile tug at his lips, speaking as he went from bent over to standing straight.

"No' bad, girl. Din't see that comin', gotta say. Jus' remember-" he pointed at her with the kukri "-yeh could've ended me, there. I was nearly on me knees, mind was all scambly from dat knee a' yours... ad' you had yer knife free."

Konrad tapped the back of his neck with his blade.

"Coulda' jammed it right there an'd I'd been meat a'fore I hit the petchin' grass, love." The kukri vanished back into its sheath, and Konrad was unarmed before her. That alone, he hoped, was enough for her to pay close attention. "If it's a fight when yeh've got yer knives out, it's a fight that yeh kill t'win. Dun' forget that. Trust me, the other bastard won't. Now... next lesson-"

He supposed the girl was growing familiar with the sound of metal sliding on leather. Slow, almost sensuous, if you had the ear for it. And if you'd been at the game long enough, you could tell between the quick, high hiss of a dagger being pulled... and the low, low rasp of a sword.

Like a kopis.

"When issa' sword," he said, three-foot of sharpened steel in his hand, curved much like the kukri was. "Youse get away, or yeh get close. Y'get in under the range of it-" he swung a few times, forward and back, letting her see that impressive as the reach was, once you got past the blade, all he was swinging... was his arm. "-or y'get the bastard on the backswing, when he misses ya. Let's see how youse do with that-"

Konrad wasn't quite at the point of attacking her in mid-sentence yet, but he didn't give her more than a tick after his last word before he slid forward on seasoned feet, stabbing the kopis straight at her stomach.

Two options were open to her, as he saw it:

She could try to parry, knocking his blade off track and away from her... in which case he'd follow up with a half-speed kick to her stomach. Turnabout being fair play, after all... or she would try and dance away again, backing up, trying to gain more space. Which Konrad wouldn't give her. He'd follow up immediately with a swing at her neck, slow and controlled, but not back down. Not giving her anywhere to run.

Time to learn at the messy end of the blade, love.

[Sloane]

Sloane grinned triumphantly as she bounced back, secure in the knowledge that she'd gotten free in a way Hansel hadn't expected of her. She nodded in agreement as he pointed out her mistake in not pressing another attack immediately, though she blanched at the thought of having her blade so close to his face or neck, training or not.

Hansel put his knife away, and Sloane straightened slightly, curiosity coming across her face as she watched him draw his other blade, this one longer and far more unnerving. His weapons looked odd to Sloane,not straight and simply like what she was used to seeing, but curved and bent, with a nasty, cruel look to them.

The sword swung towards her and Sloane reacted on instinct, bringing the dagger up and around to block the blow, the two blades bouncing off of one another, quickly followed by Hansel's foot kicking out towards her. Sloane yelped in surprise, unsure of how to block it, and taking to long to decide. Instead she twisted and took the blow to her side instead, the impact knocking her back a step, despite the fact that it really didn't hurt much at all.

Get away or get close. She reminded herself, eye's tracking the sword at the same time that she tried to keep an eye on the rest of him, lest her try to distract her with a kick or a punch. Taking a chance Sloane rushed forward, doing her best to avoid the sword as she drew near, attempting to get under his range, just as he'd suggested.

Sloane slashed her dagger towards his side, each moment she spent with the weapon in her hand becoming more familiar and less tense. As she drew closer the room for her to feign slashes lessened, and so she switched instead to a stab, the motion slow and careful, aimed towards his chest.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

Gods, but he hadn't felt this alive in so long. Too long. Granted, it was sparring, there were no lives at stake, but the constant, frenetic to-and-fro, it was... intoxicating as ever.

His foot struck home but she did her best to absorb it, and it took only ticks for her to come back him. Faster than expected, too.

Clever girl. You're learning.

He swung at her from the side but, true to his advice, by the time it reached her, she was under hsi weapon. Dashing in close to his side and that dagger was slashing up to rattle against his ribs-

-he twisted away, feet grinding through the grass as he slid through it, but she was already changing tack, dagger coming back to him in a stab-

-at his open chest, kopis useless at that range, forcing him to-

-hurl himself backward away from the blade coming for his breastbone, moving as if some massive hand had grabbed him by the scruff and yanked him back. For a tick he was airborne, arms spread wide, landing with a puff of dust and bending his legs to take the juddering of his bones.

"Good!" He was grinning, nodding his approval as they circled each other again. "But dun' be too optimistic, ye ken? F'I'd swung at yeh an' jumped back, I coulda' taken yer head off. Always be ready t'back off... if ya have to"

Another pause. Enough for a handful of breaths, and then he readied himself to-

The ground snarled at them. For a tick it seemed like the Sea itself was venting its displeasure, and every superstitious fear Konrad had ever had came clamoring into his mind at once. But he stilled it just as fast, season living on the steppes, with the horse lords, through this hellish "Winter" teaching him that it was-

Konrad turned, faced the copse of trees they'd first arrived at... and something long, black, and ravenous slid out of cover.

The lion was bone-thin, emaciated, eyes red-rimmed with hunger and thirst. For days it had scoured its hunting grounds, and found nothing but spoiled prey, already dead to the heat and drought, providing nothing but meager marrow for a creature that needed red, raw meat. But Konrad, one predator to another, could see the confident gait of every massive paw. The rows of teeth gnashing and drooling. The way it barely parted and yet a roll of hungry thunder shuddered out from between its teeth.

"... don't move."

It seemed the best advice. The creature was desperate, starving, but still knew to be wary around humans. It knew nets and spears and arrows and had likely seen many of its kind perish to them. But most of all it knew fire and-

That's it!

Konrad breathed. A season ago, he couldn't have done it. It would have taken too long, to work his will and marshal his thoughts into the wyrd. By the time he could have done so, the lion would have pounced and... well, it would be hi first. He was closest. Maybe the girl would have gotten away, but that was small comfort.

As Sloane looked on, Konrad between her and the stalking thing approaching them, she would see Konrad's sword arm start to... pulse... like a trick in the light, a mirage... but one that didn't abate. Soon the glow pulse had a form, and color, and she would see tendrils like wet grass roots-

Come.

-snake out of his wrist and start to curl over his hand, sliding up the kopis like vines around a metal tree. Konrad's eyes were fixed, ignoring her, ignoring everything but the commands that he spoke only in his own head, and the monstrous cat that had paused in mid-step. Unsure. Unfamiliar.

The kopis blade glowed. It was covered, smothered in the strange, moist-looking gas that flickered green and black. Then he raised the glowing weapon and-

Now.

A sword of silver became one of burning res. Flaming and spitting and hissing and the lion bristled in shock. He swung it gently through the air, afterglow sizzling across the humid air between man and beast. Then he stabbed out towards it-

"Back!"

A growl, one of fury, of confusion, of-

"Petch off, ya bastard!"

It broke. Memories of fires and torches and the instinctive, blood-deep pain the lion knew they represented were too much even for hunger to conquer. It skidded around and leaped back into the brush of the copse. Better marrow and mice than flame and death, which it knew went together, just as men and murder.

Konrad was silent for long ticks. Listening to the crashing and snapping of twigs grow fainter. The kopis burned and then gutted, like a candle starved of oxygen. He closed his eyes and-

Out.

-the steel returned. Scorching hot and blackened in placed, but whole, and Konrad groaned as he examined it.

"Yer not meant to do that," he said, tone more annoyed than anything else as he turned back to her, glaring at a blade that would need quite a bit of care. "S'not good for the metal. Warps it, y'know? Still, flames weren't too hot so..."

His words trailed off as he saw the look on Sloane's face. He cleared his throat.

"... ah. Yeah. I can do that, too."

OOCThought I'd mix it up a little... and hey, can't resist a chance to go with the whole "Burning Sword" angle! Oh, that's a Night Lion, by the way.

[Sloane]

Sloane grinned, enjoying the back and forth as she attacked and Hansel expertly avoided her blows. She paused as he leapt back, impressed by the show of rapid agility, and took the moment to catch her breath and swipe the back of her hand over her forehead. She listened carefully as he spoke, nodding slowly, realizing her mistake as he pointed it out.

Sloane could see Hansel was readying himself, and she set about doing the same, raising his hands from where they'd relaxed down by her sides and holding them ready in front of her. But they were interrupted as a great, vibrating growl rolled across the clearing towards them, and Sloane froze, glancing past Hansel as he turned to search for the source of the noise as well. The lion emerged from the sparse tree line, and sloane was reminded of the warning she'd received during her first few days with the Drykas. The strange lack of Winter weather had been affecting the animals of the Sea of Grass, and many were overly aggressive, desperate, and on the verge of starvation. It seemed the lion, once a formidable predator, was no exception, as it slinked towards them with a confidence born of necessity.

Sloane's eyes darted to the side, catching sight of her bow where it rested in the dirt behind them, quiver set down next to it. She swallowed, gaze flitting back to the lion, taking an agonizingly slow step back, ignoring the fact that she'd been told not to. Sloane froze however, as Hansel caught her attention, or more so whatever was twisting around his arm did. She watched, mouth falling open as some strange tendril, akin to heat haze, twisted around his arm and up his sword, wavering and thrumming.

The lion watched, transfixed just as Sloane was, scenting the air uncertainly as the odd matter covered Hansel's blade. He raised the sword and flames flickered to life, consuming the misty matter in bare tics to crackle and blaze. Sloane gasped, darting back a step and almost tripping over her own feet, the lion reacting in a similar kind, clearly fearful of the flames and the man wielding them. The lion fled, and Sloane likely would have as well, had Hansel been brandishing The sword at her instead. When the lion was well and truly gone, the flames faded and shrank, leaving the blade radiating heat and tendrils of black smoke.

Sloane gaped, at a complete loss for words. certainly, she'd witnessed the use of magic before, but nothing like Hansel had just displayed. She was use to the Drykas delving into their strange web, and seeing healers magically bring people back from the brink of death, but she'd never in her life witnessed such a fierce display. Hansel turned back to her and Sloane shook her head incredulously. "What... What in gods was that!?" She choked out, eye's darting from Hansel, to his sword, and then over to where the lion had fled. She wasn't sure if she should be impressed or frightened, and so she hovered in an odd combination of both. "How did you even...?"

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

He knew that look she was giving him. He'd grown up with it, at least in the beginning. More often it was far, far to the edge of hatred, coming with curses and jeers and mobs of men and women and children all bent on immolation and dismemberment. Sunberth did not like mages, and that was putting it likely.

Because behind the wonder and the oooh-aaah at what they could do, there was always the fear. The knowledge that steel and flesh could be mastered, but they were naught compared to this elemental power a man could conjure with a thought and a flick of his wrist.

People don't love power when others have it. They fear it, or they envy it.

Konrad never expected to have that look directed at him... no, no, that wasn't true. He never wanted to have it from her. That knowledge, mayhap, was more surprising to him than anything else. He sighed and sheathed his kopis, feeling the heat of the metal even through the leather of the scabbard.

Can't forget to work on that.

"S'called "Reimancy"," he said, putting up both his hands as if in supplication, but also to show her the ritual scars on his palms, healed since his initiation a season ago but still livind and red. "Lets yeh... well, s'this stuff called "djed", s'like magic, an' ev'ry'one 'as it in 'em. When y'bring it out of yerself..."

Konrad's eyes closed for a tick as he breathed in, and when he did-

"... s'called "res", instead."

-a green cloud with streak of black curled up out of his palm, floating upward until his mind willed it into a rude ball, rotating slowly and staying in place in the air above it.

"Tha's jus' how it starts, though. See, once y'got the res, youse can make it do things. F'me, that means-"

His fingers snapped and in the space of a blink, Sloane would see the swampy-water-looking planet instead turn into Syna. Konrad ignited the outer layer of res and soon the thing was burning merrily above his palm. He let her eyes play over it, until his arm started to twinge, like an insistent child getting its parent's attention. Then he breathed in again, and when he blew out on the ball-

Out.

-the fireball puffed into nothing with a wisp of smoke in the air. His palm closed, a mere physical flourish just like him blowing was. It was his mind, after all, that controlled the res. But some things were... comforting. Necessary embellishments.

"m'not a petching mage," his tone went from gentle to granite in a tick. Konrad knew well what a hypocrite was, but he couldn't bring himself to apply the word to himself. Not in this case. Not after what he'd seen and participated in and endured back home. He wasn't one of those mad bastards who cracked the world open centuries ago. He was... just a man, utilizing another weapon. "S'just something I use, like... like a sword, or a bow. This'n's just a little different."

He realized how lame it sounded, how utterly insufficient. He'd just waved around a flaming sword, and the flames had come from his own arm. How was she expected to just take that in? It was clear from her expression that she'd never seen a Reimancer in action before: it was as alien to her as an infant meeting a Dhani for the first time.

"Look, ah... lesson over fer t'day," he said, meeting her eyes but more in defiance than anything else. She wanted to be afraid of him? Fine. He was used to that. No, he preferred that. Yes. Definitely. "Some other time, yeah?"

Konrad started walking, scooping up his bow as he went. A gaggle of thoughts and words were besieging him and he stamped them all away into nothingness. One recollection of the look on her face was enough. One peek at her again was enough to make it all he could remember, and he didn't like that feeling.

So he walked away, because that's what he did when he couldn't just kill the problem.

[Sloane]

Sloane watched in awe as Hansel demonstrated his magic again, leaning forward to get a good look. She wondered if she could touch the odd gas, but restrained herself, the mere thought conjuring images of her hands with all the flesh singed, just because she couldn't control her curiosity. He gaze snapped up as his tone changed suddenly, and Sloane's face fell, wondering what had happened to cause it. He looked at her, eye'd having lost the soft, kind quality that had slowly crept into them during the time they'd know each other, and Sloane stiffened, following his movements silently as he grabbed his things and went to leave.

She watched him for a moment, surprised and confused, before finally darting forward, scooping up her own bow and quiver and hurrying after him. "Hey, wait for me!" She called, reaching out to catch his arm and tug at him. "No storming off and leaving the situation in shite, okay? I've done that already, and once is enough." Sloane waited till she had his attention, and was certain he wasn't going to continue his attempts to escape before she went on.

"The Reimency... It's not that bad. It's strange, and I'm not sure I really like it, but it's not like that means much." Sloane shrugged, struggling to find the right words to express herself aptly. "Look, we're friends, I guess, or something like that..." She said quickly, ignoring the embarrassed blush that was spreading up her neck - Sloane wasn't a huge fan of talking about feelings and the like. "And I like sparring with you, training with you. I don't care about the magic shite, it does unnerve me, but you swinging your sword around like you're about to take off heads unnerves me to." Sloane paused, scratching at the back of her arm, mentally scolding herself for talking in circles.

"Ugh, what I mean is that, I don't think differently of you. I agree, it's just like another weapon. It startles me when you suddenly yank out your sword, and it's the same when you conjure flames out of nowhere. I can be frightened of the actions, of the weapons without being frightened of you!" She rubbed at her forehead, gazing up at Hansel uncertainly. "Am I making any sense at all?" She grumbled, annoyed by her own messy thoughts. "I know you're not going to hurt me, and I'm not afraid of you, no matter what you'd like to think."

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts