As the last days of Fhor's cottarship wane, she gathers her belongings, while the muffled voices of your parents echo from further down the path to your roundhouse. The space between you feels a bit heavy, laden with unspoken thoughts. "About that leech rumor..." she starts, avoiding direct eye contact, "I'm sorry. My father's always talking about how great yours is. And seeing him talk like that, it felt unjust that his only son was… well, you." You look at her, waiting for her to continue, and she does. "But now, after spending time here, and learning to know you, I was wrong. You have that same quality my father admires in yours."
The air seems to thin a little, and you can almost hear the rustling leaves outside more distinctly. She then faces you squarely, her gaze piercing. "But that brawl with Kosa? That was stupid. He's got weight and height on you." Yet, a hint of something glimmers in her eyes? "Don't be so reckless next time."
The early winds of autumn swirl outside, perhaps signalling the beginning of new understandings.
> Address the Night: Clearing your throat, you meet her eyes. "About that night, when I reached out… I hope I didn't make things awkward," you express, giving her space to understand your intentions and hoping to clarify the discomfort between you.
> Express a Desire to Maintain Ties: "I've come to value our moments together, Fhor. We sould continue to spend time with together." you suggest, hopefulness evident in your tone.
> Joke About the Rumor: "I promise, I'll try to limit my blood-sucking habits. At least not on moonlit nights," you chuckle, leaning into the ridiculousness of the rumor and attempting to end this discussion on a light note.
