SepiaInk
The Wind-Watcher
Clutching her head wasn’t enough to stop the throbbing, but it did seem to shift the world back into focus. It was absolute chaos around her, all the content in her bags spilled on the ground, books, papers, vials, jars, everything. The constant murmur from everyone around them did nothing to lighten up the mood and Phoebe let her frustration show on her features, squinting at the mess she’d have to clean up.
Hearing a moan, she whipped her head around to take a good look at the fool that had just flown into her, but her anger faltered a bit when her gaze met a pair of ruby red eyes.
“I’m sorry! I’m s-s-so sorry!”
There was something odd about the way the young harpy offered her his hand and then retreated it. But then it clicked in her mind. He had hands. This harpy that had crashed into her had actual arms and hands, though covered in grey fur (or was it feathers?). It had to be a mutation of some kind. How rare was it? Had it ever been reported on paper?
So great was Phoebe’s fascination in that moment, mind focused on nothing but drinking in every detail of this strange creature, that she barely noticed that the man was trying, and failing miserably, to pick up her things. Which was something she could do very well on her own and normally wouldn’t let happen without a fight. But it was hard to admonish someone who was actually shaking with the effort to help.
Even when he dropped everything to the ground, Phoebe remained quiet, eyes unblinking as she stared at his trembling hands. She had the urge to touch them, feel the muscles and joints of each finger down to the broad palms, but social rules dictated that'd be beyond rude. Instead, she just carefully took the piles from him without a word and pushed them into her bag.
“Once again, Miss. I’m r-r-really s-sorry.”
“It’s alright, no need for apologies.” She assured, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. Her body didn’t complain all that much when she got up, so everything seemed to be fine on that regard and there hadn’t been damage to the balcony itself.
Though most of the crowd had dispersed after confirming that it had been a simple accident and no one had gotten hurt, some still lingered and spoke in hushed whispers. Phoebe sent those who remained a pointed look and that was enough for a couple of them to leave or at least be more subtle in their prying.
"We’re both to blame,” she resumed talking, settling her gaze on the harpy. "I was distracted and should’ve known better. No use in dwelling on the past, just focus on the present.”
Why did she say that? Dr. Silas’ constant ramblings were rubbing off on her, it seemed.
“I’m grateful for your help, though it wasn’t needed.” She tried to say that in the nicest way she knew how. People always seemed to take those words in the wrong way, for some silly reason or another.
“No scratches or bruises…” she mused while inspecting herself, touching and pressing the skin of her face and pushing up the sleeves of her shirt to take a look at both arms. “No broken vials…” she went though the contents of her bags, hand lingering on that blank paged book.
“It seems you’re in perfect health as well. Though I should ask anyway, I suppose. Are you hurt in any way?” Despite herself, she let her eyes fall the young man’s waist, as if she could see through his flesh and gaze upon the hands that he hid behind his back. “Are your hands alright? You were shaking.”
@Jayus
Hearing a moan, she whipped her head around to take a good look at the fool that had just flown into her, but her anger faltered a bit when her gaze met a pair of ruby red eyes.
“I’m sorry! I’m s-s-so sorry!”
There was something odd about the way the young harpy offered her his hand and then retreated it. But then it clicked in her mind. He had hands. This harpy that had crashed into her had actual arms and hands, though covered in grey fur (or was it feathers?). It had to be a mutation of some kind. How rare was it? Had it ever been reported on paper?
So great was Phoebe’s fascination in that moment, mind focused on nothing but drinking in every detail of this strange creature, that she barely noticed that the man was trying, and failing miserably, to pick up her things. Which was something she could do very well on her own and normally wouldn’t let happen without a fight. But it was hard to admonish someone who was actually shaking with the effort to help.
Even when he dropped everything to the ground, Phoebe remained quiet, eyes unblinking as she stared at his trembling hands. She had the urge to touch them, feel the muscles and joints of each finger down to the broad palms, but social rules dictated that'd be beyond rude. Instead, she just carefully took the piles from him without a word and pushed them into her bag.
“Once again, Miss. I’m r-r-really s-sorry.”
“It’s alright, no need for apologies.” She assured, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. Her body didn’t complain all that much when she got up, so everything seemed to be fine on that regard and there hadn’t been damage to the balcony itself.
Though most of the crowd had dispersed after confirming that it had been a simple accident and no one had gotten hurt, some still lingered and spoke in hushed whispers. Phoebe sent those who remained a pointed look and that was enough for a couple of them to leave or at least be more subtle in their prying.
"We’re both to blame,” she resumed talking, settling her gaze on the harpy. "I was distracted and should’ve known better. No use in dwelling on the past, just focus on the present.”
Why did she say that? Dr. Silas’ constant ramblings were rubbing off on her, it seemed.
“I’m grateful for your help, though it wasn’t needed.” She tried to say that in the nicest way she knew how. People always seemed to take those words in the wrong way, for some silly reason or another.
“No scratches or bruises…” she mused while inspecting herself, touching and pressing the skin of her face and pushing up the sleeves of her shirt to take a look at both arms. “No broken vials…” she went though the contents of her bags, hand lingering on that blank paged book.
“It seems you’re in perfect health as well. Though I should ask anyway, I suppose. Are you hurt in any way?” Despite herself, she let her eyes fall the young man’s waist, as if she could see through his flesh and gaze upon the hands that he hid behind his back. “Are your hands alright? You were shaking.”
@Jayus
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