[she opens her mouth to retort that she is in fact old, but... then his tone shifts. the tight grip on her spear eases, and even jæger seems to pick up on the change in his voice. it's how she can tell he's completely and utterly telling the truth, and for a moment morga stills. really, it's easy to disguise it as simply taking an extra moment to step over part of a fallen log, but since when did she ever need to slow her pace for something as mundane as that? she does it to listen to every word that falls from julian's lips, and her own press together in a tight, pained line simply because he isn't looking back to see it.
he's so godsdamned candid about it... almost enough to make her gut lurch, and morga knows she's standing at the precipice with only one way off; foward. whether or not she's bold enough to do it, though... only time has the answer to that. so, instead of thinking about the long fall before her, she busies herself with watching him move. underneath every little hop and duck under overhanging branches, she can still see what makes him him. it's damn near enough to turn the tight-lipped grimace into a hidden, genuine smile.]
You...
[her thoughts go back to that night. how she'd been moments from doing something foolish on more than one occasion. how julian seemed to blend in with the crowd as easily as a snake might hide on the forest floor, and draw attention to himself at the same time. he was in his element. her guide to that wild, colorful world that was oddly enchanting despite how uneasy it left her. the magic used in some of the rooms had been so thick she could nearly taste it (nevermind some of the smells from certain rooms of note), and that room in particular had been the least offensive to her senses.]
Now I'm glad I didn't take what they were trying to push on me. Did... it help?
[perhaps a foolish question, but it's... really the only thing she can think of to say besides something that'd embarrass herself. maybe even the both of them.]
no subject
he's so godsdamned candid about it... almost enough to make her gut lurch, and morga knows she's standing at the precipice with only one way off; foward. whether or not she's bold enough to do it, though... only time has the answer to that. so, instead of thinking about the long fall before her, she busies herself with watching him move. underneath every little hop and duck under overhanging branches, she can still see what makes him him. it's damn near enough to turn the tight-lipped grimace into a hidden, genuine smile.]
You...
[her thoughts go back to that night. how she'd been moments from doing something foolish on more than one occasion. how julian seemed to blend in with the crowd as easily as a snake might hide on the forest floor, and draw attention to himself at the same time. he was in his element. her guide to that wild, colorful world that was oddly enchanting despite how uneasy it left her. the magic used in some of the rooms had been so thick she could nearly taste it (nevermind some of the smells from certain rooms of note), and that room in particular had been the least offensive to her senses.]
Now I'm glad I didn't take what they were trying to push on me. Did... it help?
[perhaps a foolish question, but it's... really the only thing she can think of to say besides something that'd embarrass herself. maybe even the both of them.]