Speech | 85th Day of Winter, 513 AV | Thoughts
Fish had been the last thing on Naia's list of foods she wished to eat, and by luck she'd managed to not end up with a hunk of some sea creature in her rations. However, it seemed that her luck had run out. 'Lord Laviku, please have mercy.' That was, if it indeed was the fish that had done it.
She touched the lump and then recoiled, as though merely touching it could cause some great backlash, cursing in the diretion of the door. The one day that she meat which she wished to swap and trade, her neighbours were content with what they'd been given.
Her gaze settled upon the skin on the back of her hand, the glint of yellow as apparant as it always was, and Naia could scarcely help but feel something.
It was a mix and twist of urges and wants, a crippling curiosity coupled with an desire to test and play and learn, a knot of self loathe spoiling all lightness of her thoughts as she hated how she was set aside from the natives just as she had come to be accepted. 'Grandmama,' she thought, the day itself bubbling to mind - one of the few that she was permitted to take break and rest - and the urge to reconnect with the woman she'd spent the greater part of her teenage life with took her by storm. 'Yes, yes. She'll know what to do. Or she'll laugh.'
Clothing had been a nightmare, all of her coloured dress clashing horribly with the new vibrancy of her appearance, taking to the wearing of her cloak every time she left the apartment, the only time shedding it when in The Halls of Robes.
She gathered her things in a tight rush, chuckling as she left as thoughts of her first day back at work. The gasps, and giggles, and short yelps still fresh in mind, along with the looks both haunted and amused. She could feel the eyes that had been stuck to her that way, and the questions left unasked when she gave and recieved work from her fellow librarians and scholars unlike.
Her steps were quick and gaze stuck to the ground, her hair left wild and unbrushed, fringe a mess enough to cover the greater portion of her face.
Never in her whole season had she been so pleased to live so close to her grandmother.
She touched the lump and then recoiled, as though merely touching it could cause some great backlash, cursing in the diretion of the door. The one day that she meat which she wished to swap and trade, her neighbours were content with what they'd been given.
Her gaze settled upon the skin on the back of her hand, the glint of yellow as apparant as it always was, and Naia could scarcely help but feel something.
It was a mix and twist of urges and wants, a crippling curiosity coupled with an desire to test and play and learn, a knot of self loathe spoiling all lightness of her thoughts as she hated how she was set aside from the natives just as she had come to be accepted. 'Grandmama,' she thought, the day itself bubbling to mind - one of the few that she was permitted to take break and rest - and the urge to reconnect with the woman she'd spent the greater part of her teenage life with took her by storm. 'Yes, yes. She'll know what to do. Or she'll laugh.'
Clothing had been a nightmare, all of her coloured dress clashing horribly with the new vibrancy of her appearance, taking to the wearing of her cloak every time she left the apartment, the only time shedding it when in The Halls of Robes.
She gathered her things in a tight rush, chuckling as she left as thoughts of her first day back at work. The gasps, and giggles, and short yelps still fresh in mind, along with the looks both haunted and amused. She could feel the eyes that had been stuck to her that way, and the questions left unasked when she gave and recieved work from her fellow librarians and scholars unlike.
Her steps were quick and gaze stuck to the ground, her hair left wild and unbrushed, fringe a mess enough to cover the greater portion of her face.
Never in her whole season had she been so pleased to live so close to her grandmother.
