@buttonflask / / nott. a pearlescent button rolls ‘cross porcelain knuckles as she flips, lazily, through the pages of a book. a book she has devoured a hundred times over and soon a hundred times again. the poise known to her is still somewhat there, but it lacks the usual unyielding presence of formality; wren’s shoulders are lax and she is at ease . . . a feeling that is unfamiliar when in company, but it is not unwelcome. it is trust she’s choosing to place in her new friends — the mighty nein, so she must bridle fight or flight. she must; no longer will she kowtow to the fears in her heart, in her mind. but, that isn’t as easy as it sounds. no, it takes effort . . . though, it’s becoming easier with each passing day, and that comes as a surprise — a pleasant one. she chuckles softly to herself, inhaling with the softest shake of her head; it is then that she feels a presence suddenly near her and she turns her head to find nott standing there. withdrawn from her thoughts, a brown brow arches and there is a soft curl to one corner of her lips; “ oh, hej nott, ” she speaks smoothly, turning her torso towards the goblin girl . . . wren wouldn’t lie, she’s been curious about this one. very curious. “ what can i do for you, nott? ”









