[ His words take Alayne off-guard, so much so that her weight shifts uncertainly between her feet without her meaning it to. Had she been as obvious as that? Was the truth there written on her face — her eagerness and her trepidation? For all that she has schooled herself that the world is not kind, that COMPASS are cruel masters whose power comes from whatever hope gives and they then take away, she cannot help but feel a glimmer of it now as Isaac looks at her and seems to see her in a way none of the other Isaacs had.
You were very brave once on my behalf, she wants to confess to him, the words burbling up from her stomach after having been unearthed from a secret place. You gave me hope when I had none. You let me touch your arm.
You were kind to me and I to you in a place that had kindness for neither of us.
At her feet Lady makes a noise, as if trying to preempt the question, her head rising. Looking at Alayne and then to Isaac she seems to expect an answer; her ears twitch as they listen for it. ] I— [ Again Alayne falters, her tongue lead rather than silver, her words failing and worse than inelegant as they fail to manifest. Blue eyes travel his face, trying to find the correct answer; it's still so unclear if he knows her, even if she has given herself away already.
Eventually her gaze drifts and then falls on Isaac's arm as it hangs at his side. Taking a step forward she reaches for it carefully, looking at him lingeringly in a silent request for permission. If it was the Isaac she knew there'd be a mark there, hidden beneath the sleeve of his shirt. It would bare a number, inked into his very skin. (Under the sleeve of Alayne's sweater there is a similar mark.) ]
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You were very brave once on my behalf, she wants to confess to him, the words burbling up from her stomach after having been unearthed from a secret place. You gave me hope when I had none. You let me touch your arm.
You were kind to me and I to you in a place that had kindness for neither of us.
At her feet Lady makes a noise, as if trying to preempt the question, her head rising. Looking at Alayne and then to Isaac she seems to expect an answer; her ears twitch as they listen for it. ] I— [ Again Alayne falters, her tongue lead rather than silver, her words failing and worse than inelegant as they fail to manifest. Blue eyes travel his face, trying to find the correct answer; it's still so unclear if he knows her, even if she has given herself away already.
Eventually her gaze drifts and then falls on Isaac's arm as it hangs at his side. Taking a step forward she reaches for it carefully, looking at him lingeringly in a silent request for permission. If it was the Isaac she knew there'd be a mark there, hidden beneath the sleeve of his shirt. It would bare a number, inked into his very skin. (Under the sleeve of Alayne's sweater there is a similar mark.) ]
Perhaps we have, [ she mumbles quietly. ]