[For this, he receives a huff, then groan. Incredulity. She almost looks like she's pouting. She would be, had she the correct face for it. To slip herself out of the sensation of his doubting she sinks into a long stretch—of course, a man would doubt her miracles simply because she can't speak—and when she's upright once more, she throws her irritation off with the tossing of her coat.
Her gaze lingers on his thumb, and she wonders if he intends to only take from pockets, but if he's in no need of her, and being different from the Theon she too cares for, not knowing her the same, it may be a waste of time to visit for curiosity's sake alone. She isn't even certain this is the Theon before the one she's grown to know. Soft natured as she is there's something deliberate and piercing in the gaze she pins on his, a god daring a mortal to reflect for the truth. She can't force faith, but the growing lack of it is tiresome. Many times she's done things right before a person, and they clung to their refusal to believe anything. It doesn't cause distaste, but she's allowed to be irritable, children covering their ears or eyes. Moreover, it hurts, and she never makes a big show of this, to have her existence and essence denied.
Like that, she turns away, any other animal with its own agenda, coming and going as she pleases. The unsettled urgency in the woods pulls her, she steps in her loping over sprawled limbs to bodies, wild and alive, white fire moving in contrast to the sight around them. But her curiosity does cause her to pause, to glance back to him once more.]
no subject
Her gaze lingers on his thumb, and she wonders if he intends to only take from pockets, but if he's in no need of her, and being different from the Theon she too cares for, not knowing her the same, it may be a waste of time to visit for curiosity's sake alone. She isn't even certain this is the Theon before the one she's grown to know. Soft natured as she is there's something deliberate and piercing in the gaze she pins on his, a god daring a mortal to reflect for the truth. She can't force faith, but the growing lack of it is tiresome. Many times she's done things right before a person, and they clung to their refusal to believe anything. It doesn't cause distaste, but she's allowed to be irritable, children covering their ears or eyes. Moreover, it hurts, and she never makes a big show of this, to have her existence and essence denied.
Like that, she turns away, any other animal with its own agenda, coming and going as she pleases. The unsettled urgency in the woods pulls her, she steps in her loping over sprawled limbs to bodies, wild and alive, white fire moving in contrast to the sight around them. But her curiosity does cause her to pause, to glance back to him once more.]