[ Her stubbornness is built into the silt - that is, every fibre and sinew of her being - but also is the wisdom of knowing when to pick her battles. (Pun not intended.) It's too bad, he looks fit (if dressed in a deliberately misleading manner) and speaks more eloquently than the bottle perched by his feet would imply. ]
I will leave you be, only - [ Hm. ] May I have your name?
no subject
[ Her stubbornness is built into the silt - that is, every fibre and sinew of her being - but also is the wisdom of knowing when to pick her battles. (Pun not intended.) It's too bad, he looks fit (if dressed in a deliberately misleading manner) and speaks more eloquently than the bottle perched by his feet would imply. ]
I will leave you be, only - [ Hm. ] May I have your name?
I am Lucina.
[ Sometimes, she even admits it. ]