Her facial expressions must give her away more than she had initially thought because the befuddled boy was quite up in arms about the way she looked at him. She did not ask it out loud, she ponders, but apparently she may as well have. She laughs at him, ‘thorn up my butt’ ̶ she scoffs, watching him struggle. “A thorn up my butt?” her pretty eyes contort with a wrinkle of her face, mocking him, “Infant.” she tosses her long pretty tail and adjusts her rosy wings, tipping her chin up to pretend to have a look around as she stands ankle deep on the opposite bank.
When he turns back to her she pretends not to care ̶ but she is very curious to see if she’s gotten his attention. Despite her genes, her extended wisdom for her young age, she is still (somewhere in there) a stupid little girl. Let us assume this is her fashion of flirting. It is going as it has gone the two or three times prior, she is scaring off her subject of confused and misguided desire.
She’s left awestruck when she follows the glint and the mysterious sound coming from across the river. His shifting wipes her mind clear and captures her full attention. She is a little spooked, as is the nature of being an equine of any kind (even magical). She snorts, smiling finally, twitching her big rose and vine wings, the leaves at their tips fanning out.
“I guess so, but what you do is entirely up to you, Weasel..” she giggles, her girly, sweet-milk voice comes through as it did not before. She has to speak a little loud, the river gushes between them with a louder voice than hers. It seems appropriate now, she thinks, to cross the river at the small bridge up ahead and approach the boy on his own side. So she does just that, crossing and walking toward him through the long wetland grasses and shrubbery.
“I am Padmé ̶ what’s your name, Weasel?”
PADMÉ
the high black water, the devil's daughter
the high black water, the devil's daughter
i may have rambled? i am not sure.
i blacked out
❤️ @[Nerve]