@Sightseer
Sibley's eyes went wide as the woman confirmed her identity. She responded to Sophia's head bow with a deep bow of her own, her hands clasped against her legs, her hair flung over her head in her haste to do so. In this position, her gaze was drawn to the badger that was still pawing at her boots. She took as deep a breath as she could without hurting her throat.
"Green Sage Sophia." Sibley's words were soft as she searched for an answer that would be... at least somewhat palatable. "My mother told us stories of you. Of your forest. I - I grew up on a farm near a village called Northpass. Your forest marked the far boarder of our farm." She paused to cough. "My mother cautioned us against entering the forest, but I found solitude there. In a farmhouse with seven siblings, it was the only place I could find solitude." Sibley bowed even lower. "Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect."
Her answer danced around the truth: although she spoke no outright lies, Sibley's story still omitted key details - that Northpass was new when she was young, that her family had been the first to farm that land - in the hope that she would not break the Green Sage's heart.
Sibley watched the badger, frozen in her pose, wondering if the truth was shining through her eyes, and, if it was, whether or not the animal could tell. She still felt too weak to hide her expression, and the only barrier hiding it from the Green Sage was her long hair. If the badger could tell, though...
Sibley's eyes went wide as the woman confirmed her identity. She responded to Sophia's head bow with a deep bow of her own, her hands clasped against her legs, her hair flung over her head in her haste to do so. In this position, her gaze was drawn to the badger that was still pawing at her boots. She took as deep a breath as she could without hurting her throat.
"Green Sage Sophia." Sibley's words were soft as she searched for an answer that would be... at least somewhat palatable. "My mother told us stories of you. Of your forest. I - I grew up on a farm near a village called Northpass. Your forest marked the far boarder of our farm." She paused to cough. "My mother cautioned us against entering the forest, but I found solitude there. In a farmhouse with seven siblings, it was the only place I could find solitude." Sibley bowed even lower. "Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect."
Her answer danced around the truth: although she spoke no outright lies, Sibley's story still omitted key details - that Northpass was new when she was young, that her family had been the first to farm that land - in the hope that she would not break the Green Sage's heart.
Sibley watched the badger, frozen in her pose, wondering if the truth was shining through her eyes, and, if it was, whether or not the animal could tell. She still felt too weak to hide her expression, and the only barrier hiding it from the Green Sage was her long hair. If the badger could tell, though...