Snow…

( there’s a soft echo of the word after him, thoughtful, as she sets her hands to the task of preparing the tea. this, too, should be done purposefully, rather than simply imagining something out of nowhere; it’s important, this sort of hospitality, and maybe there’s a part of her that wants to show that even with just the bud of their friendship—or, perhaps tolerance, on his part—she’s happy to water it with delicate care.

even thinking that, though, she’s silently willing the water to boil just a little faster. )

I’ve only seen snow a few times in my life. They keep the city pretty tempera—…te, wait, you ride? ( she says this as she leans back to look at him, a tea infuser between her fingers, half-packed with leaves. ) Ride where? To do what? Mercenary things, sword things?

( there’s a little wrinkle of her nose, shared with a smile, as she leans back in to tuck the infuser into the tea pot. )

It sounds exciting, but I’ll bet it can be annoying too, huh? Dealing with everyone’s demands. Cloud used to have to catch cats and fix roof tiles and things like that…