[ Her heart beats faster as it settles that Ser Aymeric has come to see her. The notion is one that she has realized always happens when they meet. There is a part of her that wishes to curl her shoulders and hide her face behind her hands, as if she is a young girl utterly smitten by a handsome soldier. However, she is no longer a young girl, and so she must act as one would expect of the Conjurer Guild. Proper, professional. Even if a part of her wishes to hold his hand and lean against him, letting her tail sway back and forth happily.
Instead, she leans against the door slightly, unable to contain the wide smile that spreads across her face. Her tail does certain move underneath the robes, hidden from view of everyone else. Alkaid has never been shy of her racial status. Instead, it seems as if all in Ishgard are cloaked nearly head to toe, and she does not wish to stand out more than she most certainly does already. Her two-toned eyes quickly take him in. There seems to be no issues from the wound that caused them to meet, but his attire is certainly different. Handsome formal attire that she would expect the Lords of Houses to wear... which, he most certainly is one. As that reminding notion settles in her mind, she a sinking feeling begins to tug at her heart. The beating of her heart turns from excitement to anxiousness.
Something has happened, and her mind has an idea of just what that might be.
Ishgard is at war after all.
Alkaid slips from the door and closes it behind her. Her gaze locks to his as she searches for an unsaid answer to her own unsaid suspicions. ]
It is certainly not hard to find a Miqo'te in Ishgard, Ser Aymeric. [ She smiles for him regardless of her own emotions.
Her hands fold together before glancing down to see where his might be. She has always been rather forward by Isghard's standards, but surely taking his hands and pulling him away might be too much. The urge to do so remains strong, to the point where her fingers begin to twist one another simply to keep them busy as the nerves build inside. ]
Of course! [ She takes the step to stand directly in front of him. ] Do you have somewhere in mind?
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Instead, she leans against the door slightly, unable to contain the wide smile that spreads across her face. Her tail does certain move underneath the robes, hidden from view of everyone else. Alkaid has never been shy of her racial status. Instead, it seems as if all in Ishgard are cloaked nearly head to toe, and she does not wish to stand out more than she most certainly does already. Her two-toned eyes quickly take him in. There seems to be no issues from the wound that caused them to meet, but his attire is certainly different. Handsome formal attire that she would expect the Lords of Houses to wear... which, he most certainly is one. As that reminding notion settles in her mind, she a sinking feeling begins to tug at her heart. The beating of her heart turns from excitement to anxiousness.
Something has happened, and her mind has an idea of just what that might be.
Ishgard is at war after all.
Alkaid slips from the door and closes it behind her. Her gaze locks to his as she searches for an unsaid answer to her own unsaid suspicions. ]
It is certainly not hard to find a Miqo'te in Ishgard, Ser Aymeric. [ She smiles for him regardless of her own emotions.
Her hands fold together before glancing down to see where his might be. She has always been rather forward by Isghard's standards, but surely taking his hands and pulling him away might be too much. The urge to do so remains strong, to the point where her fingers begin to twist one another simply to keep them busy as the nerves build inside. ]
Of course! [ She takes the step to stand directly in front of him. ] Do you have somewhere in mind?