Date: 2015-12-17 10:05 pm (UTC)
formicine: (bluegrass)
From: [personal profile] formicine
Blue blinks as the rain just stops, at Ronan's will. Abrupt, almost as if it were never there. She tips her head up to watch the light filtering in.

Blue's only been able to bring something to being once in Cabeswater just by thinking -- or maybe earned its favor; she's still not sure how it works, just that it's unsettling, the visions in the water. Not knowing what operates its magic is a little eerie, if a sort of eerie she understands, like nighttime in Henrietta. It's not limited to Ronan, but Ronan can wield it in a way she won't ever quite get.

"Neat trick," she says, instead of any of that.

The rain might as well have never been there, but her clothes are still sodden and she rings out the bottom of her dress onto the forest floor, standing slowly with the guitar. All of a sudden her teeth threaten to chatter, badly, as though her body has just figured out she's been drenched and stressed, and she tries to repress it and mostly fails.

Blue holds the guitar out to him, gentle with it where he hasn't been. "Can you fix it?"
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