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are you my mother? - Printable Version

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RE: are you my mother? - Zoey - May 04 2021



Zoisite had thought that they had been imposing on Venari; that she had better things to do than be bothered by a creature designed in similar fashion that hesitated over the thought of murder looking for their --

-- but that was neither here nor there. Venari focused down on the smaller insectoid gembound, and did Zoisite imagine the curiosity in her eyes? Oh. Zoisite's quills rattled and their head jerked up, mandibles parting as though a mouth agape as Venari gave them a price for the bounty. Something that seemed... right up Zoisite's alley.

Their quills quieted, and their mandibles shut, and after a moment, they dipped their head. A flower or a gemstone. Venari was talented, and if anyone could reunite them, Venari... maybe... They stared down at the ground, seemingly quieted by this offer.

Then, resolve formed somewhere beneath carapice, and once more their pincers were set back into motion. "I will bring something back, then," they promised. "Something beautiful." They could do that. "Thank you." How many times now had the Zoisite thanked Venari? They were starting to sound like a broken record.

The Zoisite pulled their head back once more, twisting their neck to meet Venari's deep, pitted eyes with the golden glow of their own rows. "I will be back," a second promise, and then the insectoid creature turned, and went to make their leave. A mission, a task, for once set into their heart. If this was purpose, it... it felt hopeful.




RE: are you my mother? - Game Master Dark - May 05 2021

Venari regarded the very-grateful fellow bug with a curious stare. "You're welcome," she said, at last; but...

"It's nice to have company."

Sometimes.

Well, this would be something to look forward to, then: her new friend acquaintance bringing something back, some form of gift, and then she'd get something to do to boot. She bowed a bit to Zoisite, immense segmented carapace dipping down, and then turned back to her shelf for the time being--glancing over the stones, ensuring the moonstone was where it was supposed to be.

She could hear the Zoisite leaving, and turned back a final time to watch it go. "Goodbye," she called, a little belatedly--but surely it would hear. It seemed the polite thing to say, in any case.

@V-Zoisite-One