Clear eyes hardened into slits of ice and her jaw clenched spasmodically while Seda attempted to smother her instinctive fury. The hands in her lap turned into claws and fingers mercilessly dug into the soft flesh of her legs. Her heart ached something fierce and her breath came out in short gusts.
It seemed as if she sat frozen for ages before her lips curled into a snarl, voice dripping with disgust. “I hate werewolves.”Swallowing deeply Seda took in one shuddering breath before continuing lowly, gaze locked on her lap. “You would think that would mean I would like to hear all the stories about them. About how they were beaten but no, I don’t.”
Slumping down with a sigh she turned to peer at Jill from behind the curtain of her hair. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I always enjoyed the stories about the others though. I think I would be terrified if I ever saw one. Well a dragon. They say the griffons are all gone.” Swiping at her hair she tucked it behind one long ear and pulled herself up with a chuckle. “The romantic tales were not my favorite either. I used to make faces at my father when he tried to tell them to me.” Brow furrowing she paused and gnawed on her lip. “Well not all of them. I liked listening about how my parents met but that is a different sort of story I suppose. Nothing so grand or exciting.”
Perking up at the mention of Jill’s grandfather, a mercenary himself, Seda looked over and listened with interest. The way she spoke of the man reminded the elf of how she talked of her own father. Face brightening into a smile she nodded along as Jill continued to speak. “He sounds as if he was a great man… And I would like to believe you are right.” Leaning back one hand rose into the air and reached for Salma, fingers spread wide. “I enjoy fighting but I don’t want to be defined by that.”