The confession drew her ear, Deidre inclining her head towards her companion once they finally made it to the stall full of the plush animals, all manner of fabric bursting with color from their respective displays. Hazel eyes lit up to the point that the covert, golden fragments sharding each iris stood out -- obvious mischief apparent and culled by the revelation that Bethen had never once experienced the joys and turmoils of inebriation; the chemically-induced freedom of laughing raucously at nothing (and not caring), as well as the throbbing headaches that visited in the morning. She didn't remark on it, at least not yet, turning to the woman who had posed her query. The sight from across the cart only bolstered her grin, wide enough that the secret dimple that normally hid itself on the smooth curve of left cheek revealed itself yet again.
"If you don't mind, good mistress," the would-be cleric declared, with a tone more fitted for the pomp and pageantry of the Imperial Court of Orlais than in the midst of a marketplace bustling to stow away its wares for the evening. "I'd like to purchase the halla, please. I know someone who would appreciate it."
The transaction occurred expediently -- the young woman certainly didn't dally when she wanted something. Much like how she ran most of her life, she abandoned hesitation at the door for the simple indulgence of finding a perfect gift, in turn, for yet another acquaintance. After the exchange of silvers and a few bits, she took the toy in her hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. While a miniature version of the real thing, she had to admire and take stock of the authenticity -- which she didn't doubt in the slightest given that the seller was elven. A city elf, but one regardless, who clearly cared about her work enough to do her research as to what the revered animal looked like.
She turned to Bethen, bobbing the head at her, its big, black eyes staring at the mage while the archaeologist puppeted her latest acquisition. "Isn't it adorable?" she gushed, and changed the timbre of her voice into something higher and squeakier. "Looooove me, Bethen! Loooove me!"
Amused, she tucked the toy under her arm. "Well, we'll have to fix that," she said, finally returning to the prior strains of conversation as both started heading back to the Keep. "But not just because...we have things to do after all and I'm certainly not all irresponsible in getting the both of us drunk when the possibility of running into our deaths on the road is quite high. I hear that the lack of hand-eye coordination and sluggish thinking are not conducive for the state of one's survival in a fatal but possibly escapable situation. We'll need to find a good occasion for it." A hand lifted to tap absently on her chin, her head rolling back to glimpse the canopy of early stars winking above them.
"We should all head out for a night in the town if we find ourselves back here during this year's Satinalia," she suggested with barely a pause. It was probably not all too surprising, the historian appeared full of ideas at any given day. "Granted, the grandest celebration I've ever seen associated with it has always been in Antiva... still, the locals are no slouches when it comes to a good festival. You saw the way they are during Summerday, after all. It should be fun with a good group."
The day was almost over, sunlight giving way to gentler, muted colors upon the night's descent. Vigil's Keep loomed before them as they embarked on their return to its solid confines; a foreboding sentinel swathed in abyssal black, masonry and architecture working in tandem to provide a direct and startling contrast to the city's more cheerful surroundings. Looking at it now, part of her desired not to return, to fall on the open road again and see where the breezes took her, and knowing full well that for the time being, she was anchored here. She had a promise to keep, after all -- one that was earnest and heartfelt, surprised by the realization that she was willing to sacrifice that important piece of herself to remain where she was.