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She doesn't expect a herd of - how many? One, two, three... - four creatures to appear after her. If she didn't know better, it'd look like she was a part of a pack, an army ready to attack the poor fox whose attention has innocently been summoned by cult ritual. Still, she was at least paying enough attention to the stranger to listen to the fem's words, bemused by her friendly words and energy. Robin like the little bird, Robin like the antihero of Robin Hood, Robin like the sidekick to Batman. She blinks, processing quietly in the background, letting her mind murmur and tick and turn. Wandering. But when the fox is broken off, that is when she notices the beginnings of what will be a flurry of panic and mumbo-jumbos. He eyes widen in surprise. The stranger named Robin has begun on a tangent, wandering with reasons for why they shouldn't kill her - or, using Robin's own words, 'sacrifice' her. She even been so kind as to provide a list of them. Kind, but not necessary. The kitsune would be severely disappointed and confused if they did choose to kill Robin considering the number of times trespassers have been given the free ticket to join. It doesn't make sense to poor Tintallë who now has a bit of a headache from all the rambling. Before she knows it, after all this talk about being inflammable and disliked and small, Robin has finished with the mention of a bear. She frowns softly. "So a bear is chasing you?" the child asks, angling her head to add to her confusion. The fox had spoken so many words and Tintallë's brain had scattered so much that she was still trying to assume that Robin was just being informative. A strange way to be nice, but considerate.
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Weekly tasks. She's noticed Ruiners run around with jobs before and she assumes that they are the result of having asked for a task. Well, Tintallë thinks to herself, she can't continue grieving about the life of plants. The desert just simply isn't a place for them to grow. No matter how much love and time and hope and effort she gives, they'll just rot away. It hurts but she knows she should put her attention to something more productive and a task seems just about a good idea. If not then the girl would probably result to playing in the sands by herself again or sticking her curious nose into another hobby that will be doomed to fail, like looking after pets. There is no way Tintallë would be responsible enough to look after pets. They would probably take one look at her and consume her whole if she turned her back. She feels her lungs expand and contract, a weight forming on her diaphragm as she, ever so meekly, says: "I'll take a task." She shuts her mouth, tail swinging lowly behind before before she remembers her manners and quickly adds, "- please!"
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She stops, feeling her face dry from all the hot wind blowing in her face as her ears perk in surprise of the male's voice. She looks at him, nearly losing focus and dropping the book she telekinetically held. There is almost this deer-in-the-headlights look about her face, as if she has done something wrong. Truthfully, she thinks she has. She feels guilty that her strawberry plant hasn't blossomed, knowing it is her fault for even attempting to do the impossible. "I - um..." she doesn't know how to reply to him at first, immediately forgetting her words and feeling her vocabulary get sucked into a black hole. It isn't a strange occurrence for her either. There are too many phrases in this language, too many things to remember. That was why it was better to read because she didn't have to remember how to use her words, only remember how to decipher and understand. "Eragon." She hasn't gotten very far into the book yet and she doesn't want to explain what she feels about the novel. She can't afford spoiling her strawberry plant with what happens, twitching her nose as she looks at the direhound from top to bottom. He's...a little scary. Her own muscles feel numb at his very presence and her brain chokes for her to tell the male to leave her sight. But alas, she's too cowardly. The longer she lets him intimidate her, the more afraid she will feel and the worse off she will be.
"I'm Tintallë. Are you a fan of reading?"
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sounds good to me!
can you make it?
if not, i can make it but i'll have to be tomorrow since i've finished with tea's posts for today
also, sorry i haven't replied to the meet and greet
for some reason my muse doesn't want to work for that thread so we can just say she wasn't sure what the reading was for virgo because she hadn't read it yet and will continue that conversation in the private thread !
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wait nvm i'm just silly and didn't read properly
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tintalle only has 10% remaining because all her powers are used up by a curse that is out of her control
ah the price i pay for being too technical lmao. i guess i can get rid of the wyvern's firebreathing if i'm desperate so not everything is at loss
hopefully telekinesis is conveniently going to be 10% x3
um, can i have a list of who is staying and who is not staying?
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She was totally expecting it, waiting for the male to begin hacking and coughing and breathing. But alas, when it happens, she finds herself yelping in surprise. Her paws tremble and shake as she frantically tries to regather herself, paying enough attention to hear the male introduce himself. Miyu. She repeats in her head for a solid ten more times, letting it sink into her frazzled mind before spinning her attention to Soundcheck. She blinks, says nothing then is shocked by the presence of yet another stranger who expresses an interesting disappointment. There is none other but a blank, empty stare followed by Calypso agreeing to help the two out. Her trance breaks and Tintallë smiles and nods. She says nothing else but stands up, attempting to help Miyu to his paws and then assist in leading the two back to their camp. It looks like Calypso has everything under control, of course, and the fem is more than willing to give it up. She doesn't trust in her own initiative. Even if she had made the right decision then and there to try and help the poor, half-buried feline and bring him back to life, she still can't trust anything to herself. She's worried about the pressure getting to her and feels much better off having no expectations placed upon her frail shoulders.
what is muse
