09-07-2016, 05:00 PM
He had a ready retort on the tip of the tongue, prepared to fling back any number of possible girlish reactions. Jai was a man who appreciated the broad spectrum of women: from the dainty things who liked to blush giggles hidden behind their laced fans to the witty banter tossed back and forth from two playfully creative minds. When Nythadri responded simply, he checked her profile with an uplifted brow, surprised that nothing more followed. He never missed a step, but not often did people surprise him. Yet her cool answers shocked him half way to the Pit of Doom.
The evolution of her soon to follow smile-to-smirk tempered some of his worry, that either he had misread her from the beginning or he'd lost some of his touch. Highly unlikely. Then again, he was filling up today's quota for unexpected turns of events. Wasn't even midday.
Indeed half a step behind, as naturally he was not privy to the twists and turns they were taking to reach their destination, she may or may not see the settling of his amused gaze down to the ring and dress. Subtle, but not necessarily trying to hide it, he might just be a man of the Black studying the uniforms of the White. Though, given the particular model, likely the uniform was not the only reason to study her.
The amused facade cracked with an agreeing nod upon her suggestion that the Tower would use the objects of one's affections against them. There may be some base differences between conduct of the White and Black, but he would not put anything past the glorious power of Aes Sedai machinations. That she enjoyed her rituals, her secret was safe. The day he pinned on the dragon, he asked leave to visit Tar Valon once more. He was ordered to report to Tear. Bloody predictible.
"Haven't a clue what we'll find. Not too keen on getting tossed back in Arad Doman so soon, but a bet is a bet."
He'd leave the intrigue at that. Unless she asked for more. He didn't mind missing out on a bite if he could watch the catch circle.
"Thanks, but it’s not detail. It was a lucky break I happen to know the feel of a callous."
How to demonstrate? The glaze of darting eyes over a page written across by his mind interrupted their conversation.
"Since leaving we've taken four hundred, twenty-seven steps."
He looked down at her. Tall for a woman, but not quite at his shoulder. "I have, at least."
This time, when he looked her over, it was for another reason. "You're probably ninety percent my height."
No pause to do that easy calculation. "I'd guess three hundred eighty-four steps for you."
He shrugged and looked elsewhere.
He'd hardly call it a talent. More like bolts coming loose. The numbers had gripped his mind since childhood, but a certain major life event clenched their claws tighter around his skull ever since. The day he first touched saidin and vomited at the filth tainting it. "But you say that like a fellow captive of nuances. Have you some insight on mine?"
Lifted brows lined his curious grin. Absolutely innocent. Not at all a fisherman out on the water just for the sport. No, he kind of liked this fish.
The evolution of her soon to follow smile-to-smirk tempered some of his worry, that either he had misread her from the beginning or he'd lost some of his touch. Highly unlikely. Then again, he was filling up today's quota for unexpected turns of events. Wasn't even midday.
Indeed half a step behind, as naturally he was not privy to the twists and turns they were taking to reach their destination, she may or may not see the settling of his amused gaze down to the ring and dress. Subtle, but not necessarily trying to hide it, he might just be a man of the Black studying the uniforms of the White. Though, given the particular model, likely the uniform was not the only reason to study her.
The amused facade cracked with an agreeing nod upon her suggestion that the Tower would use the objects of one's affections against them. There may be some base differences between conduct of the White and Black, but he would not put anything past the glorious power of Aes Sedai machinations. That she enjoyed her rituals, her secret was safe. The day he pinned on the dragon, he asked leave to visit Tar Valon once more. He was ordered to report to Tear. Bloody predictible.
"Haven't a clue what we'll find. Not too keen on getting tossed back in Arad Doman so soon, but a bet is a bet."
He'd leave the intrigue at that. Unless she asked for more. He didn't mind missing out on a bite if he could watch the catch circle.
"Thanks, but it’s not detail. It was a lucky break I happen to know the feel of a callous."
How to demonstrate? The glaze of darting eyes over a page written across by his mind interrupted their conversation.
"Since leaving we've taken four hundred, twenty-seven steps."
He looked down at her. Tall for a woman, but not quite at his shoulder. "I have, at least."
This time, when he looked her over, it was for another reason. "You're probably ninety percent my height."
No pause to do that easy calculation. "I'd guess three hundred eighty-four steps for you."
He shrugged and looked elsewhere.
He'd hardly call it a talent. More like bolts coming loose. The numbers had gripped his mind since childhood, but a certain major life event clenched their claws tighter around his skull ever since. The day he first touched saidin and vomited at the filth tainting it. "But you say that like a fellow captive of nuances. Have you some insight on mine?"
Lifted brows lined his curious grin. Absolutely innocent. Not at all a fisherman out on the water just for the sport. No, he kind of liked this fish.
Only darkness shows you the light.