"Oh but bees are ever eager to be charmed, did you not know?" She gives her best innocent-wild child look, complete with head tilted to the side and hair that is rapidly becoming a tangled waterfall of curls.
While he looks for the bread she packed, she's looking at the honeycomb in the setting sunlight, admiring the rich amber color and reaching out with the pinky of her opposite hand to catch some dripping honey on it, then stick it into her mouth to enjoy the delicious sweetness. As soon as he has the bread ready, she is passing over the honey without a second thought, and another finger goes into her mouth. Sticky is again the watchword here.
"So your friend does not keep his hair short and neat as yours is?" Mara is starting to get an image in her mind of this friend of Horvath's and is quietly betting herself that she will know the man on sight.
Dinner is good, a combination of leftovers, and food that she'd prepared especially for the journey. As he eats where he is, she's either sitting on a rock, kneeling on the forest floor, or leaning against a tree. Whatever she is doing, it's not resting, or relaxing at all. It's as if there is a ball of energy just under her skin, keeping her up and moving, either standing to watch the sun go down, or breathing deeply of the evening air.
Dinner over, she washes her hands in the brook near the camp, returning to help pick up. The packs she seizes by their straps, and without a thought she's up and climbing up into a not-too-far tree, climbing high and hanging the packs away, out of reach of any forest animals that come calling. Climbing back down toward the campsite, she decides to stop and rest on a lower branch, stomach down and her legs crossed behind her.
"Maxim" Her voice calls from above him in the tree. "We must amend our deal, we two. We'd made a pact to tell two tales, one for to and one for from. We shall be parting there, only one tale is required. And we have both fulfilled our ends of the bargain."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-03-16 07:43 am (UTC)While he looks for the bread she packed, she's looking at the honeycomb in the setting sunlight, admiring the rich amber color and reaching out with the pinky of her opposite hand to catch some dripping honey on it, then stick it into her mouth to enjoy the delicious sweetness. As soon as he has the bread ready, she is passing over the honey without a second thought, and another finger goes into her mouth. Sticky is again the watchword here.
"So your friend does not keep his hair short and neat as yours is?" Mara is starting to get an image in her mind of this friend of Horvath's and is quietly betting herself that she will know the man on sight.
Dinner is good, a combination of leftovers, and food that she'd prepared especially for the journey. As he eats where he is, she's either sitting on a rock, kneeling on the forest floor, or leaning against a tree. Whatever she is doing, it's not resting, or relaxing at all. It's as if there is a ball of energy just under her skin, keeping her up and moving, either standing to watch the sun go down, or breathing deeply of the evening air.
Dinner over, she washes her hands in the brook near the camp, returning to help pick up. The packs she seizes by their straps, and without a thought she's up and climbing up into a not-too-far tree, climbing high and hanging the packs away, out of reach of any forest animals that come calling. Climbing back down toward the campsite, she decides to stop and rest on a lower branch, stomach down and her legs crossed behind her.
"Maxim" Her voice calls from above him in the tree. "We must amend our deal, we two. We'd made a pact to tell two tales, one for to and one for from. We shall be parting there, only one tale is required. And we have both fulfilled our ends of the bargain."