It's probably telling that the first thing you realise about OA's cloak is the fact it is expensive, more expensive than even the suncloak you keep in your syllabus for special occasions. The fabric is smooth and soft under the tips of your graspfronds, almost silky, and it feels like the fabric itself's been permeated in wax, because it's reflecting more heat than it's gaining.
"Haha. Ah. Um. Sheer luck?" Compared to you, their cloak is positively cool, and you press in close, pleased with your decision. You'd prefer to be inside, but this is at least a little reprieve from the heat, and that thought inspires you. "It's a miracle, really," you add, beaming up at them hard enough that your cheeks dimple. They're a cultist: they like that sort of thing, don't they?
You're not expecting the invitation to their hive, and for a moment, it throws you. They're not suggesting - no, no, of course not. Thank heavens, because OA seems nice enough, when they're not being terrifying, but no.
You might have gone out with a goal in mind, but OA is hardly eligible for the position. (Haah. Position.) There's a lot of rules you're willing to fudge in the name of some harmless fun, but pailing your moirail's ex is not one of them.
"Ah." You're not going to cast aspersions where there are none, you decide: they're just offering to let you sleep this off on their couch, and by the time the daymares wake you, hopefully it'll have burned off and you'll just leave. "If that's alright with you! I wouldn't want to, haah, be a bother.."
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"Haha. Ah. Um. Sheer luck?" Compared to you, their cloak is positively cool, and you press in close, pleased with your decision. You'd prefer to be inside, but this is at least a little reprieve from the heat, and that thought inspires you. "It's a miracle, really," you add, beaming up at them hard enough that your cheeks dimple. They're a cultist: they like that sort of thing, don't they?
You're not expecting the invitation to their hive, and for a moment, it throws you. They're not suggesting - no, no, of course not. Thank heavens, because OA seems nice enough, when they're not being terrifying, but no.
You might have gone out with a goal in mind, but OA is hardly eligible for the position. (Haah. Position.) There's a lot of rules you're willing to fudge in the name of some harmless fun, but pailing your moirail's ex is not one of them.
"Ah." You're not going to cast aspersions where there are none, you decide: they're just offering to let you sleep this off on their couch, and by the time the daymares wake you, hopefully it'll have burned off and you'll just leave. "If that's alright with you! I wouldn't want to, haah, be a bother.."