[ Abraxas continued to remind Hilda about the shelter and cushion that her life in Fodlan had provided her. It's been six months since her arrival and the rude awakening that she'd have to do some work if she expected to have any of the comforts she had at home continued to appear before her. It hadn't been enough to pull her naked and shivering into the middle of a desert, but to also have her work?
Rude of this world really, considering that they had been the ones who had summoned her. But, and at this her gaze drifts slowly between the two men who were her last ties to home, at least she'd had familiar faces to make the transition easier. She worries the bottom of her lip as she listens to Sylvain sell them on the possibility of this place becoming their new home for however long that may be. Their home. The thought makes her stumble and she feels something clench tight around her heart for a moment. The furrow in her brow can at least pass for deep enough thought instead of the beginnings of crippling doubt.
That's a thought for when she's alone. Claude's nudge jostles helps her recover and reminds her of what's in front of them. It's easier to focus on what's being presented to them which is, as Claude puts it, a blank canvas. As intimidating as that is, she can't deny that there's something of a thrill she gets thinking about it.
She is, and always will be, a tougher sell from Claude however in that respect. Ironically, she is chronically cautious about the things that mattered the most and new living quarters is apparently one of those things. Or maybe this is just her pickiness and stubborn nature rearing its head because the townhouses were just so pretty. ]
I don't need a whole workshop to myself. It's not like I'm going to get an anvil and turn into Jayce. [ She crosses her arms with a huff, although both of them may pick up that she's starting to warm, if only just, to the idea. ] I'd rather have a nice, big bathroom with a clawfoot tub. And a big comfy bed. [ Hilda rolls her eyes, heaving a sigh. ] Okay fine, show us the gross dusty warehouse before we change our minds.
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Rude of this world really, considering that they had been the ones who had summoned her. But, and at this her gaze drifts slowly between the two men who were her last ties to home, at least she'd had familiar faces to make the transition easier. She worries the bottom of her lip as she listens to Sylvain sell them on the possibility of this place becoming their new home for however long that may be. Their home. The thought makes her stumble and she feels something clench tight around her heart for a moment. The furrow in her brow can at least pass for deep enough thought instead of the beginnings of crippling doubt.
That's a thought for when she's alone. Claude's nudge jostles helps her recover and reminds her of what's in front of them. It's easier to focus on what's being presented to them which is, as Claude puts it, a blank canvas. As intimidating as that is, she can't deny that there's something of a thrill she gets thinking about it.
She is, and always will be, a tougher sell from Claude however in that respect. Ironically, she is chronically cautious about the things that mattered the most and new living quarters is apparently one of those things. Or maybe this is just her pickiness and stubborn nature rearing its head because the townhouses were just so pretty. ]
I don't need a whole workshop to myself. It's not like I'm going to get an anvil and turn into Jayce. [ She crosses her arms with a huff, although both of them may pick up that she's starting to warm, if only just, to the idea. ] I'd rather have a nice, big bathroom with a clawfoot tub. And a big comfy bed. [ Hilda rolls her eyes, heaving a sigh. ] Okay fine, show us the gross dusty warehouse before we change our minds.