Re: Third Class ; Dining
Deciding seemed to her a daunting task, when she had, for as long as she could remember followed the rules of others while keeping her head down and her tongue held. "I don't know where to look," she confessed, because to find was to search, and she hadn't the slightest idea of how to do either. Maybe she could find something that made sense here, on this ship. Or maybe not. If the boy hadn't decided, surely it was alright if she didn't either. Once, before she'd plummeted from above, she'd been able to create beauty with a mere sweep of her fingertips. She could have made him understand how very little made sense, and she could have shown him where she came from, but her fingers only moved through air when she tried. There was nothing tangible to hold on to; she'd been stripped of her identity.
But he gave her hope that she could get it back, or create a new one. "You're the first human I've ever spoken to," she confided with a shy smile. Slowly, slowly, she drew her knees away from her chest and unfurled, limbs unwinding, though she was prepared to draw back again should he snap hidden jaws or bare sheathed claws. "You're not like they said. You're very..." She paused, searching for the word. "Kind."