Until the tap of the pawn, River wasn’t certain that she’d be invited to play. She hung back, worrying at the edges of her sleeves with the fingers she’d curled up inside the fabric. “Right,” she said, rolling the word across her tongue to see how it sat. Yes. Right. Decision made, she flowed forward with less reckless speed but every bit of her earlier urgency. River settled gravely into the seat across from the Master and promptly curled her fingers around the edge of the stone table. She used it as support as she leaned forward to whisper a warning.
“It’s unfair, you know. The left hand is a gossip.”
River sat for a moment as if she were waiting for something, intent eyes fixed unashamedly on the stranger's face. No. She didn't really expect him to understand her. River shrugged away her concern and reached out a fingertip to touch the top of one of her pawns.