[The young sarana begins to make his apologies - pointedly not answering the question she'd actually asked -, but the matron simply clucks her tongue, sets the last pin and replaces the intricate headdress back onto the acolyte's head.]
Nevermind. The only one who might care will say nothing to you.
[He begins to turn.] You mean-- [--And she hisses softly at him, though whether it's because the headdress isn't fully fixed or some other reason is unclear in the dark.
After some moments, the work is done.]
There. Go now. I'm tired of you.
[There's some affection in the older Hyrypian's low rumbling voice, but not so much that there isn't some truth to the statement. Still, she helps him to his feet in the heavy robes, hurrying to knock the gravel dust from the coarse fabric.
Then the acolyte turns, hurrying up the path - in the direction of their unseen eavesdropper.]
no subject
Nevermind. The only one who might care will say nothing to you.
[He begins to turn.] You mean-- [--And she hisses softly at him, though whether it's because the headdress isn't fully fixed or some other reason is unclear in the dark.
After some moments, the work is done.]
There. Go now. I'm tired of you.
[There's some affection in the older Hyrypian's low rumbling voice, but not so much that there isn't some truth to the statement. Still, she helps him to his feet in the heavy robes, hurrying to knock the gravel dust from the coarse fabric.
Then the acolyte turns, hurrying up the path - in the direction of their unseen eavesdropper.]