:It's all very well to be sweet to something you don't think is real or can hurt you,: Lashan says acerbically, mostly to herself. She has absolutely no idea if flower spirits are as harmless as they seem; she can recognize them and knows they're delicate and shy, not much more. Her affinity isn't plants. :You're dangerous. How could I possibly trust you with my own life, let alone my Sisters?:
Vena, peering curiously at the memory of Chitch, says a wary :You wouldn't have to trust him much. There are spells... I don't really know them yet, but the Sister Wardlayers would. They say if you have a specific person's hair or blood it's easier to ward against them than to make the spiritwards and so on.: Lashan has magic, but there are a limited number of hours in the day and a limited number of years in a life. She's spent so much of both on fighting and smithcraft that her knowledge of magic is focused on a narrow range, though she's quite good in those areas. Vena, who's never seen the appeal of hitting people with sharp objects, has benefited from a broader area of study.
:Child, you're supposed to be talking me out of this,: Lashan grumbles. She hates that she's so tempted. There are sometimes non-women in the enclave but they're all either short term visitors who can be trusted, young children, or Siblings. At no point has she hauled in an aggressive teenaged boy as big as a man. :What would I do with him? How would I even convince anyone to put him up for a few days?:
Vena shrugs. :There's no drum to follow at home. He'll get bored and leave. Tell them that. Everyone listens to you.:
Out in the real world, despite her joints starting to swell Lashan shifts her thumb and under the mud finds the old scar across the bridge of his nose. It's in almost the same place as hers, though it's not as dramatic. Of course this child has old scars. She curses under her breath.
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Vena, peering curiously at the memory of Chitch, says a wary :You wouldn't have to trust him much. There are spells... I don't really know them yet, but the Sister Wardlayers would. They say if you have a specific person's hair or blood it's easier to ward against them than to make the spiritwards and so on.: Lashan has magic, but there are a limited number of hours in the day and a limited number of years in a life. She's spent so much of both on fighting and smithcraft that her knowledge of magic is focused on a narrow range, though she's quite good in those areas. Vena, who's never seen the appeal of hitting people with sharp objects, has benefited from a broader area of study.
:Child, you're supposed to be talking me out of this,: Lashan grumbles. She hates that she's so tempted. There are sometimes non-women in the enclave but they're all either short term visitors who can be trusted, young children, or Siblings. At no point has she hauled in an aggressive teenaged boy as big as a man. :What would I do with him? How would I even convince anyone to put him up for a few days?:
Vena shrugs. :There's no drum to follow at home. He'll get bored and leave. Tell them that. Everyone listens to you.:
Out in the real world, despite her joints starting to swell Lashan shifts her thumb and under the mud finds the old scar across the bridge of his nose. It's in almost the same place as hers, though it's not as dramatic. Of course this child has old scars. She curses under her breath.