Yes, you were going on about them in your sleep the other night.
[The way Gale flushes and cradles the flower would be an easy distraction in any other situation. But something about the flower, its placement, the half-blurred memories it stirs in him has him on high alert. His gaze cuts across the graveyard, but they're alone in the moment. Besides, the flower was clearly placed there years ago. By someone, or something.]
You didn't put it there, did you? Is this your doing?
[He reaches for the blossom in Gale's hands, taking it carefully. But he holds it less like a treasure and more like a poisoned blade or a lit satchel of smokepowder.]
no subject
[The way Gale flushes and cradles the flower would be an easy distraction in any other situation. But something about the flower, its placement, the half-blurred memories it stirs in him has him on high alert. His gaze cuts across the graveyard, but they're alone in the moment. Besides, the flower was clearly placed there years ago. By someone, or something.]
You didn't put it there, did you? Is this your doing?
[He reaches for the blossom in Gale's hands, taking it carefully. But he holds it less like a treasure and more like a poisoned blade or a lit satchel of smokepowder.]