[Stone / Aspel]
Quietly sighing, Stone was relieved to know that covering her tracks had worked. Did she always have such loose lips when she was happy? She’d have to work on that. Or just try not to be happy, though of course, as those times were rare, it didn’t seem like it would be a problem to the thief if she simply tried to rein in her words more closely. Nodding to Aspel, the young woman replied, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was a concert. Thanks.” At the woman’s mention of Arielle’s voice, Stone wanted to reply, ‘It’s certainly saved my ass more than a few times,’ but couldn’t, so she didn’t.
But, the subject of the bard faded, at least for the moment, and the dark-haired youth stopped to think for a bit, before answering, “I was having blueberry juice before; some mango juice would be nice.” The remainder of her water would need to be carted off, of course, but it hadn’t cost her, and it wasn’t as though she’d be wasting a precious commodity bought with hard-earned gil. If there was an intention beyond a chaste, sweet drink, of course, Stone would balk, but for now, she merely wondered if she had told Aspel about her mother.
It wasn’t as though just because one person close to her life couldn’t put the drink down for a day, didn’t mean that the girl thought the entire world would cease on her behalf—it wasn’t realistic. ‘Besides,’ she reasoned to herself, ‘I don’t even know what Aspel’s drinking.’ Perhaps the festivities had gone to her head. Stone mused she was thinking too much, and smiled softly.