#Minthara rizz unhinged as always

[bloodyarn]

@spiderwarden sent

Minthara is seated at the table by the entry of her tent, elbows rested along the surface. Chin propped along her palm while her other hand marches the compass divider back and forth along the map she had been pouring over some time ago. Attention caught in an entirely new undiscovered territory as she watches Babette’s working hands fiddling along whatever details of her current project entailed. Watching with a keen red eye the practiced motions of delicate extremities that moved in gorgeous motions, and the longer she watches her the more the drow becomes keenly aware that it’s been too long since she’s found comfort in physical bliss. She hums and then pushes to her feet, walking over to the hexblood, Minthara tilts her head. “What are you focused on so diligently, Babette.” Her voice comes curious, tender almost, as she stands over her shoulder. This is where the Drow listens, and listens to her answer keenly before she moves to rest her hand along the top of those gorgeous working hands. Before that touch turns and she uses the bend of an index and thumb to touch Babette’s chin. Minthara draws her gaze up. A crimson stare held within the other’s matched red before she drags her thumb along her chin. “How about I give you another subject to.. occupy you with, yes. When you are finished here come to me.” Tone is low, a hum to compliment her words, where that hand at the other’s chin lowers and Minthara holds Babette’s eye. “Tonight … You are mine.”

   𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 .   unprompted interactions ────────────────────────

      𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝘁𝐢𝐜 𝐩𝗿𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝘁 𝘁𝐡𝐚𝘁 𝘄𝐚𝘀 𝐚 𝐠𝗿𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝘁𝐜𝐡𝘄𝐨𝗿𝐤 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝘁 𝘁𝐡𝐚𝘁 𝐜𝐨𝘂𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝘀𝐢𝐥𝘆 𝐟𝐢𝘁 𝐚𝘁 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝘀𝘁 𝐟𝐨𝘂𝗿 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝘄𝐚𝘀 𝐧𝐨𝘁 𝐞𝘃𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝘀𝐞 𝘁𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝘁𝐢𝐨𝐧.      When the night's quietness enveloped their camp, Babette found herself more than often working on it. Not knowing if said blanket will ever come in handy, it was nice to collect snippets of fabric along their way, weaving them together as a testament of the party's travels.

Small hands stood occupied at all times, even when the hexblood heard the drow approach  :   who was not a visitor she expected, to be frank. They shared little similarities outside their fun-sized heights. Most of the time, Babette even found herself a tad bit scared, thinking back to numerous times Minthara offered seemingly senseless violent options for pretty much peaceful arguments. There was, however, a hint of admiration bubbling up inside her whenever she spoke. Her good eye for leadership  &  confidence earned her a great portion of respect. And damned she shall be if the little lady couldn't tear these violent walls down in time.

The tailor did not believe in people being completely evil.

     ❝ Hello, I . . . ❞     Babette began, wearing this usual friendly smile that would win awards at customer service. Ready to explain her occupation in these hours, the hexblood took a slight breath which would get stuck in her throat as soon as that finger met her face. A blink, two blinks, just to realize what meaning this subtle touch meant. Struggling to find her footing, the pale woman blurted out a series of stutters, flustered already by the vague implications the Paladin uttered.

    ❝ Oh, uhm, you see, this is a beast of a project. I will most likely not be able to finish this even after we reached the city. I . . . I can squeeze you in. In my schedule, I mean. Yes . . . ❞     Like a dog which earned themselves some praise, curious yet unsure, wagging her tail if she had one, the seamstress found herself suddenly very interested. Not only because of how little the two spoke in the past, Minthara's tone betrayed some gentleness. Intriguing, if anything.

She cleared her throat before rising to her feet, the blanket momentarily forgotten, placed aside on a crate.     ❝ We . . . We are talking strategies for the journey's next steps   ?   You like strategy, I think, yes   ? ❞