[ GUARD ]
"...Belobog's not always like this."
The words fell out of her mouth before she could realize. She didn't know why she said it, to a stranger no less—it wasn't as though he were some IPC exec who she had to prove this planet's worth to, nor did he really seem like the type to care. Maybe the cold was finally getting to her, but suppose Topaz had always been a bit protective of Jarilo-VI as well. It was her project, after all, and it was natural for anyone to be heedful over what was theirs.
The fire crackled. On her lap, Numby and Account Inflation slept, each taking a thigh. She rubbed their backs, a bit absentminded. She stared into the flame, enough that it burned straight into her eyes, though she continued talking to the man beside her.
"It's a really beautiful place, though—" she sighed, and the air around her lips condensed into silver tongues, "—I guess resilience is what really makes it beautiful. So maybe I shouldn't worry so much. Something about pressure turning stones into gems."
Numby snored. Topaz tore her gaze away from the flames and down onto the eve-darkened snow. Though she could still see outlines where the fire danced in her eyes.
"Heh. Sorry. I'm rambling."
There were far more unusual places for Flins to be than huddled beside a roaring fire, with the stars overhead concealed by a heavy blanket of snowclouds, playing audience to a stranger who merely needed an ear to listen. Chance and curiosity both often led him here, as an avid collector of old tales and a student of humanity, and so he'd presented no interruption to her so-called rambling. Until she interrupted herself.
Her apology met a soft laugh.
"It heartens me to hear one speak with such love and admiration."
He leaned back in his simple folding chair, crossing one leg over the other and making himself quite at home. His lamp with its lightless flame hung quietly from his belt, and the contents of his cup swirled thoughtfully in his hand as he stared not at the fire, but at the young woman and her pair of pets. By all appearances, he was more enraptured audience than a convenient stranger.
"An apt analogy, that of gemstones." For a brief moment, he permitted himself to look away from his newfound companion to sweep his eyes over the rest of the camp beyond the firelight. Although the raucous festivities of the week had died down to a quiet, smoldering determination, one hardly needed to hunt for the beauty she spoke of. Flins saw it in every drink passed between hands, heard it in every "one-two" that raised a new tent for shelter, and felt it in the warm camaraderie that wrapped its arms around a community in wartime and disaster. Nod-Krai was much the same, but it was not merely this city's similarities that Flins admired. These people persevered because they believed their lives to be worth living, however difficult or short they might be.
"It may be the most storied, famous gems that fetch the highest prices at auction, but a real collector knows that a truly valuable piece is the one with personal significance." His yellow eyes returned to the young woman's face, along with the gentle curve of a smile. "Even in disaster, this place is beautiful."