[ Her eyes are caught on Alia's bathing suit almost immediately, drinking her in, devouring her with a dark gaze. The strange, desperate connection she feels towards this woman is not something she can put into words, not something she can express without embarrassing herself, and so she bites her tongue instead. Lauralae thinks that Alia might be aware of it all the same, may have read between the lines of her mind and her touch and found out her secrets without even trying. ]
I am no artist. [ Not exactly a lie; she is no professional, not necessarily as skilled as the masters who sell their works for grand amounts, but she is talented enough to draw herbs and flowers, to keep account of the healing and the harming that they can do. Her own book is tucked away in her room back at the mansion, hidden from prying eyes who might devour the information to be gleaned from reading it.
Turning her body to face the other woman properly, Lauralae hesitates before she nods her head. ]
no subject
I am no artist. [ Not exactly a lie; she is no professional, not necessarily as skilled as the masters who sell their works for grand amounts, but she is talented enough to draw herbs and flowers, to keep account of the healing and the harming that they can do. Her own book is tucked away in her room back at the mansion, hidden from prying eyes who might devour the information to be gleaned from reading it.
Turning her body to face the other woman properly, Lauralae hesitates before she nods her head. ]
Any design you wish.