Ysaryn purposefully didn't shift to give Kire room to sit. Any sort of movement would instantly be interpreted as a retreat, and Ysaryn didn't want to give the wrong impression. Envy didn't fear Kire, or he wouldn't have allowed her to stay. Ysaryn didn't fear her, either, and decided no one else should.
Her fuschia eyes watched Kire from over her cup as she spoke. After a lengthy, but slow sip, she lowered it and cradled it on her thighs. Without the cloak to hide her, her figure was notably curved, her hourglass shape punctuated by her position. Her full thighs were wrapped in tight breeches of dark brown, her torso in soft leather. Her hair was still in its braid, the cord falling long enough to tickle the mat beneath her.
"Envy calls us Shadow Elf. Where I live, we are 'Savage Elf', but they never meet Kartaian." Ysaryn grinned wickedly, though it was brief. "We are bastards. Weak blooded children of the Kartaian. Diluted. Mixed. Other names. Grey-skin. Sevens. I do not think we have a proper name, though. Envy said we descend from a long dead race. Like Kartaian, but gentler." Her eyes roamed Kire's face. "Where I live, no one likes us." She gestured to her ears, meaning elves in general. "Here, it is different because of Envy." She shrugged indifferently. "Your face is like my skin. A reminder of something evil. But a second glance, and they will see differnt. Just like Envy. Just like you see Envy, yes? You understand?"
She grinned again. "No. Bolym is from home. My Guardian. He does not wish to remain. A lot smells about him, too."
Her fuschia eyes watched Kire from over her cup as she spoke. After a lengthy, but slow sip, she lowered it and cradled it on her thighs. Without the cloak to hide her, her figure was notably curved, her hourglass shape punctuated by her position. Her full thighs were wrapped in tight breeches of dark brown, her torso in soft leather. Her hair was still in its braid, the cord falling long enough to tickle the mat beneath her.
"Envy calls us Shadow Elf. Where I live, we are 'Savage Elf', but they never meet Kartaian." Ysaryn grinned wickedly, though it was brief. "We are bastards. Weak blooded children of the Kartaian. Diluted. Mixed. Other names. Grey-skin. Sevens. I do not think we have a proper name, though. Envy said we descend from a long dead race. Like Kartaian, but gentler." Her eyes roamed Kire's face. "Where I live, no one likes us." She gestured to her ears, meaning elves in general. "Here, it is different because of Envy." She shrugged indifferently. "Your face is like my skin. A reminder of something evil. But a second glance, and they will see differnt. Just like Envy. Just like you see Envy, yes? You understand?"
She grinned again. "No. Bolym is from home. My Guardian. He does not wish to remain. A lot smells about him, too."