Khara was dumbstruck. Of all the responses she could imagine, the way Azira had spoken to her was about as far from her thoughts as possible. Anyone else would have if they'd had dealings with me before. The words struck and hit, lodging themselves in her mind . They weren't exact, but they certainly did seem to echo sentiments Khara felt. And then came the phrase that left her feeling as though she'd been hit in the back of the head with a rather large tome - Thank you.
The Avora had turned from her and spoken the phrase with seeming little sincerity, but to hear it from such a fierce person was entirely jarring. The Chiet had to forcefully pull her attention back to the shelves in front of her to keep from staring slackjawed at the huntress. Khara's mind raced over replies, tumbled over insistences that the thanks weren't necessary, that she hadn't done anything to earn such a thing, that the Avora shouldn't thank her but that the scout realized she wasn't in any position to tell the other teen what she could and couldn't do. Indecision kept her silence in place and her gaze practically bored into the small journal in her hand until the sound of russling papers and bindings colliding with the floor snapped her attention back towards the other girl.
Khara's eyes followed one of the pieces of paper as it floated towards her, coming to rest with a corner just barely touching her boot. She wanted to sigh, though not out of frustration. Some part of her genuinely felt bad for the Avora. Everyone had their bad days and it seemed the scout had unknowingly stumbled right into Azira's. It left Khara wondering just how many bad days the huntress had, or if maybe there had just been a series of really bad ones and that accounted for her seemingly endless supply of anger.
A sudden knot of guilt twisted her stomach and Khara quickly shoved the small bound volume in her hands into its place before bending down to begin picking up the pieces of paper that had come in her direction. It wasn't the renewed guilt over having spoken poorly of the huntress, it was the fresh ever present guilt for even considering to empathize with the Avora. How dare you try and compare yourself to her, the backlash came, not sounding entirely like her own voice. It was stronger, meaner, older, entirely dissapointed and disgusted... Petch off! The scout cringed, tensing for a second as she poured every bit of will into demanding an end to the continual negative onslaught.
Recovery was slow, and Khara found herself glancing towards Azira again, the same twisting sensation threatening to rise once more. A new struggle came with trying to decide if she should hand the papers back or try to gather them into some sort of order first. Nervous fidgeting resulted in the latter and she scanned the beginning and ending phrases in an attempt to match them up. Real comprehension was lost, however, as Khara warred with the thought of speaking again. In the end, the far more troublesome part of her brain won out.
"You're welcome," she half mumbled and tried to not stare at her ink stained fingertips as they clutched the papers. "But, really, I kind of owe you. A lot."
Her voice was kept quiet, not daring to trust herself in speaking any louder and coming off as more irritating than she probably already was. "You know, for showing me all those things during the hunt and," Khara swallowed uncomfortably before continuing. "For telling Orthin that I wasn't a complete krric troo."
The Avora had turned from her and spoken the phrase with seeming little sincerity, but to hear it from such a fierce person was entirely jarring. The Chiet had to forcefully pull her attention back to the shelves in front of her to keep from staring slackjawed at the huntress. Khara's mind raced over replies, tumbled over insistences that the thanks weren't necessary, that she hadn't done anything to earn such a thing, that the Avora shouldn't thank her but that the scout realized she wasn't in any position to tell the other teen what she could and couldn't do. Indecision kept her silence in place and her gaze practically bored into the small journal in her hand until the sound of russling papers and bindings colliding with the floor snapped her attention back towards the other girl.
Khara's eyes followed one of the pieces of paper as it floated towards her, coming to rest with a corner just barely touching her boot. She wanted to sigh, though not out of frustration. Some part of her genuinely felt bad for the Avora. Everyone had their bad days and it seemed the scout had unknowingly stumbled right into Azira's. It left Khara wondering just how many bad days the huntress had, or if maybe there had just been a series of really bad ones and that accounted for her seemingly endless supply of anger.
A sudden knot of guilt twisted her stomach and Khara quickly shoved the small bound volume in her hands into its place before bending down to begin picking up the pieces of paper that had come in her direction. It wasn't the renewed guilt over having spoken poorly of the huntress, it was the fresh ever present guilt for even considering to empathize with the Avora. How dare you try and compare yourself to her, the backlash came, not sounding entirely like her own voice. It was stronger, meaner, older, entirely dissapointed and disgusted... Petch off! The scout cringed, tensing for a second as she poured every bit of will into demanding an end to the continual negative onslaught.
Recovery was slow, and Khara found herself glancing towards Azira again, the same twisting sensation threatening to rise once more. A new struggle came with trying to decide if she should hand the papers back or try to gather them into some sort of order first. Nervous fidgeting resulted in the latter and she scanned the beginning and ending phrases in an attempt to match them up. Real comprehension was lost, however, as Khara warred with the thought of speaking again. In the end, the far more troublesome part of her brain won out.
"You're welcome," she half mumbled and tried to not stare at her ink stained fingertips as they clutched the papers. "But, really, I kind of owe you. A lot."
Her voice was kept quiet, not daring to trust herself in speaking any louder and coming off as more irritating than she probably already was. "You know, for showing me all those things during the hunt and," Khara swallowed uncomfortably before continuing. "For telling Orthin that I wasn't a complete krric troo."
"Nari" | "Common"