She can tell he's staring at the gun, so she takes her hand off the holster and adjusts her jacket to hide it from view. Part of her wants to question exactly why he thinks it's some sort of aberration for her to want to travel around armed, especially on this ship where people can probably shoot lasers out of their nostrils, but they've clashed enough today. She's clashed enough with everyone, lately.
She follows, walking on the balls of her feet to protect her soft skin from sharp little branches and stones. When he pats her hand and rushes off, she follows a little bit slower, at a pace that won't force her to accidentally trip or injure herself. She's not used to walking barefoot, especially in this terrain.
She gives a coarse little laugh, the kind of laugh you can only really muster up once you've had a recent near-death experience would find just about any gift from the heavens both absurd and sublime. "A shoe tree. It's a tree full of shoes."
As she walks up to it, seemingly unafraid, she notices that this section of the forest is colder, too. Tiny dewdrops have left the greenery immediately surrounding the tree with a delicate layer of frost. She reaches out and touched the 'bark' - which seems to be some sort of cross between thinly-layered strips of birch and light-colored leather. A thin layer of ice melts under the warmth of her fingertips.
"This is amazing." Somehow, it inspires so much more awe in her than a prod-happy library or an uncoordinated dumbwaiter.
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She can tell he's staring at the gun, so she takes her hand off the holster and adjusts her jacket to hide it from view. Part of her wants to question exactly why he thinks it's some sort of aberration for her to want to travel around armed, especially on this ship where people can probably shoot lasers out of their nostrils, but they've clashed enough today. She's clashed enough with everyone, lately.
She follows, walking on the balls of her feet to protect her soft skin from sharp little branches and stones. When he pats her hand and rushes off, she follows a little bit slower, at a pace that won't force her to accidentally trip or injure herself. She's not used to walking barefoot, especially in this terrain.
She gives a coarse little laugh, the kind of laugh you can only really muster up once you've had a recent near-death experience would find just about any gift from the heavens both absurd and sublime. "A shoe tree. It's a tree full of shoes."
As she walks up to it, seemingly unafraid, she notices that this section of the forest is colder, too. Tiny dewdrops have left the greenery immediately surrounding the tree with a delicate layer of frost. She reaches out and touched the 'bark' - which seems to be some sort of cross between thinly-layered strips of birch and light-colored leather. A thin layer of ice melts under the warmth of her fingertips.
"This is amazing." Somehow, it inspires so much more awe in her than a prod-happy library or an uncoordinated dumbwaiter.