Klown
(∴✪౪⊗∴)
Location: Head LibraryTags:
Wyll
Quill assumed the role of a docile marionette beneath Seer’s probing gaze. Strings slacked at the disposal of the imposing woman who circled her as if she were a prey animal. If Quill hadn’t drawn the comparison before, she’d definitely drawn it now. There was a flighty anxiety to her, albeit her reserved countenance betrayed no inkling of the sort. Quill’s fear of Seer built its foundations upon her gratefulness towards her, drawing more from the anxieties of not meeting expectations than being eaten alive.
Seer’s question tugged the string of Quill’s marionette body, her bowed head lifted at the inquiry’s audacious implication. Confusion doesn’t present itself in a furrowed brow or curled lip. Rather, it made instruments of Quill’s eyes, striking sterling steadily dissecting Seer’s bearing. Was it an honest question? Was Seer angry with her? Had Quill acted in a way that might’ve convinced her of such impudent duplicity?
Beneath her cloak, her fingers busied themselves with the buckles of the Echobinder’s carrier, craving something familiar. Something safe. Not that the Echobinder lent much in regard to safety, but it was comforting in its familiarity if nothing else.
“With all due respect, which is more than mountains can carry, you’ve misunderstood, mistress.” Quill spoke softly again, her throat achingly complaining with each syllable. “Not even my subconscious would dare entertain the thought. Both from my lack of interest in the position and the precarious pact with my tome.” She bowed her head a second time, a slight respectful tilt. “There is no replacing someone such as yourself.”
Seer’s question tugged the string of Quill’s marionette body, her bowed head lifted at the inquiry’s audacious implication. Confusion doesn’t present itself in a furrowed brow or curled lip. Rather, it made instruments of Quill’s eyes, striking sterling steadily dissecting Seer’s bearing. Was it an honest question? Was Seer angry with her? Had Quill acted in a way that might’ve convinced her of such impudent duplicity?
Beneath her cloak, her fingers busied themselves with the buckles of the Echobinder’s carrier, craving something familiar. Something safe. Not that the Echobinder lent much in regard to safety, but it was comforting in its familiarity if nothing else.
“With all due respect, which is more than mountains can carry, you’ve misunderstood, mistress.” Quill spoke softly again, her throat achingly complaining with each syllable. “Not even my subconscious would dare entertain the thought. Both from my lack of interest in the position and the precarious pact with my tome.” She bowed her head a second time, a slight respectful tilt. “There is no replacing someone such as yourself.”
