[ her tension is draining with his hand in hers. it's because he's an amplifier, she realizes. because in places of her nervousness is the low thrum of her power, buzzing at the surface of her skin. she should be outraged, but —
but it feels good. the comfort it provides is real. even if nothing else about this is.
they enter the chapel. the doors are propped, and inside is a plasticky craft table with cubes of supplies wrapped in fire blankets. alina steers them a bit. there's no crowd. a few people in pews turn around to glance at the disturbance. there is a small gaggle near the table — four people or so — who seem to be lingering in hopes of seeing the hatchlings firsthand.
the helper at the table offers them warm smiles, and each of them a bundle of supplies. alina releases kirigan's hand to take hers, and that warm feeling dissipates. she misses it instantly.
'there's a razor in there,' she notes to kirigan, and alina balks at the audacity of telling the black general that his beard is overgrown. she searches him for a reaction. ]
no subject
but it feels good. the comfort it provides is real. even if nothing else about this is.
they enter the chapel. the doors are propped, and inside is a plasticky craft table with cubes of supplies wrapped in fire blankets. alina steers them a bit. there's no crowd. a few people in pews turn around to glance at the disturbance. there is a small gaggle near the table — four people or so — who seem to be lingering in hopes of seeing the hatchlings firsthand.
the helper at the table offers them warm smiles, and each of them a bundle of supplies. alina releases kirigan's hand to take hers, and that warm feeling dissipates. she misses it instantly.
'there's a razor in there,' she notes to kirigan, and alina balks at the audacity of telling the black general that his beard is overgrown. she searches him for a reaction. ]