Their fingers laced together was a pretty, almost comical sight: his hands were obviously masculine, with different tattoos and adornments, where hers were pale cream femininity. Yet somehow, they both had similarly well-manicured fingernails. She tried not to blush when talked about how she liked dolls. "Maybe it's because I didn't have many as a child. Possessions were hard to hold onto where I'm from." Her smile was a little bit wistful, but it soon passed when he started to talk about his own past.
It was a thrilling thing to hear someone talk of a history that wasn't harmful, to hear about a warrior class that had fought and then died without echoing too hard into the present. "Somehow, Skwisgaar, that doesn't surprise me in the slightest."