Aolani couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “I’m far stronger than I look, you know,” she said with a playful wink. “And besides, just because you’re taller than me you must keep in mind that I too am taller than just about everyone else in this temple. With size comes strength.” The angel was giving him an appraising look as she watched him walk around her room.
And by the time he had come to join her he was trying to make small talk—which Aolani found absolutely adorable. The smile was plain on her face with the delight of such a ridiculous thing as her gruff and stoic companion leaving his comfort zone to engage in something so utterly trivial. In fact he looked incredibly out of place here in her room, with its pale blues and golds. Did being here cause him discomfort?
Before Aolani could answer his question her door opened, and in rushed two acolytes covered head to toe in white garb, their faces obscured by white veils. Aolani was familiar with that—she wore a veil at the temple of Vaerath to conceal her identity from the demon lords who occasionally visited.
The first acolyte brought with them a silver tray adorned with bread—still steaming from its time in the oven—fruits, a vegetable soup, and a stuffed roast chicken. The second acolyte held a tray containing a glass pitcher filled with an amber colored liquid, a silver teapot, and a few cups and goblets. Both trays were placed on the small table that rested between the two chairs, and before the acolytes could begin their fussing over her Aolani raised a hand to dismiss them. The pair quickly bowed their heads and took their leave, whispering quickly to one another as they shut the door behind them.
“If I’m being honest?” Aolani began, taking a goblet and pouring some of the amber liquid into it, “It’s tedious here. I’m treated well, but the acolytes fuss over me simply because I am above their station. It’s usually very quiet, I have more paperwork than I did in the army, and more busywork than I can shake a stick at...” a sigh. “And yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. Ambrosia?” She asked in a squick change of subject, gesturing to the pitcher and its golden contents. “It’s much the same over... there,” she continued in a low voice, stressing the final word to convey her true meaning: Vaerath’s temple. It was a secret only the two of them shared.
The woman brought the cup to her lips and took a long sip before gesturing to Wrath to help himself to whatever he liked. “We’re you any other guest I’d serve you myself, but I bet the distinct feeling you’d take issue with that.” A playful smile tugged at her soft pink lips, and there was a twinkle in her bright sky colored eyes.
And by the time he had come to join her he was trying to make small talk—which Aolani found absolutely adorable. The smile was plain on her face with the delight of such a ridiculous thing as her gruff and stoic companion leaving his comfort zone to engage in something so utterly trivial. In fact he looked incredibly out of place here in her room, with its pale blues and golds. Did being here cause him discomfort?
Before Aolani could answer his question her door opened, and in rushed two acolytes covered head to toe in white garb, their faces obscured by white veils. Aolani was familiar with that—she wore a veil at the temple of Vaerath to conceal her identity from the demon lords who occasionally visited.
The first acolyte brought with them a silver tray adorned with bread—still steaming from its time in the oven—fruits, a vegetable soup, and a stuffed roast chicken. The second acolyte held a tray containing a glass pitcher filled with an amber colored liquid, a silver teapot, and a few cups and goblets. Both trays were placed on the small table that rested between the two chairs, and before the acolytes could begin their fussing over her Aolani raised a hand to dismiss them. The pair quickly bowed their heads and took their leave, whispering quickly to one another as they shut the door behind them.
“If I’m being honest?” Aolani began, taking a goblet and pouring some of the amber liquid into it, “It’s tedious here. I’m treated well, but the acolytes fuss over me simply because I am above their station. It’s usually very quiet, I have more paperwork than I did in the army, and more busywork than I can shake a stick at...” a sigh. “And yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. Ambrosia?” She asked in a squick change of subject, gesturing to the pitcher and its golden contents. “It’s much the same over... there,” she continued in a low voice, stressing the final word to convey her true meaning: Vaerath’s temple. It was a secret only the two of them shared.
The woman brought the cup to her lips and took a long sip before gesturing to Wrath to help himself to whatever he liked. “We’re you any other guest I’d serve you myself, but I bet the distinct feeling you’d take issue with that.” A playful smile tugged at her soft pink lips, and there was a twinkle in her bright sky colored eyes.
