stormlit​. claudel. 

        ❝ faith, ❞ he says, though his tone doesn’t match hers at all; this is more leave me alone, more don’t get involved, more it doesn’t matter. claudel winces, and tries to move away from her hands, the way they’re skirting dangerously close to—well, everything that hurts.  ❝ my face, no? don’t worry. i just need to get washed up. ❞

     She recognised the tone but, as ever, chose to ignore it. If Claudel did not want her to worry over him, then he shouldn’t have been stupid enough to let her see him in such a state. The wincing certainly didn’t help. ‘ Uh, no -- ’ She grabbed a fistful of his coat without particularly thinking about it. He might’ve been injured, but she only thought to keep him in place long enough to look at his wounds. ‘ Sit. Now. And start talking. Were ye doing work for Father? ’ 

also let’s call this a fresh starter call while i go find the stuff i owe.

@stormlit​.

     ‘ Claudel! ’ She sounded half concerned and half as if she were telling him off. Faith crossed the short space between them and raised her hands to his face. He looked awful, and for once she felt no need to point it out. ‘ What’s this? ’ 

@aleximedicus​. call. 

     ‘ Careful! ’ Faith had every intention of showing this frog to her mother, so if Mr Anwyl let it get away again, she would be absolutely furious. Or, well, as furious as a girl her age could be, meaning that she would no doubt forgive him by dinner because she had forgotten all about the incident. Anyway, she kept her hands hovering close by his own, just in case the frog tried to make a break for it. ‘ He’s a slippery one. ’ A smile, then, wide and full of wonder: ‘ And lovely. Isn’t he, Mr Anwyl? ’  

also let’s call this a fresh starter call while i go find the stuff i owe.

let’s be honest i just couldn’t deal w/ having made all my faith icons and not having her on a blog where i use them