(no subject)

[demisemidemon]

Clare's hungry, a little. (She's been hungry more than usual these days. It probably doesn't mean anything.)

She stopped by Bar and got... something. It's small and white and round, and seems to be made of some kind of bread. With a filling, she thinks.

So now she's outside by the lake, looking at it with mild curiosity.

Comments

[cutting_edgex23]

X, on her way back from the firing range, pauses as the wind carries Clare's scent to her.

She approaches, careful to make a little bit of noise as she makes her way over the snow-speckled grass.

"You are not hungry?"

It seems entirely possible.

Considering.

[demisemidemon]

Clare glances over. (She'd appreciate the noise, if she realized it was deliberate. X doesn't have an aura.)

"Hmm?" Oh. "I haven't had food like this before," she explains.

"My kind doesn't eat very much, anyway."

She is hungry. But this small bun will fill her up for a few days.

[cutting_edgex23]

X considers that, head tilting as she studies Clare.

Then --

"You do not like to eat?"

A pause.

"Or food is not relevant."

They are different. X knows this very well.

[demisemidemon]

Oh. She's sensible.

Something in the set of Clare's impassive face relaxes infinitesimally.

"It's not relevant," she agrees.

"This much will keep me full for a few days."

[cutting_edgex23]

"That is efficient," X says, because that is true.

"It does not work that way for me. For more than a day. Or two."

Several days will make certain it works even less well. Healing factors are not actually cure-alls.

Well. Not past a certain point.

[demisemidemon]

"But you heal," Clare says. It's not really a question.

She remembers. The battle against the overwhelming hordes of monsters, and this woman healing like a half-yoma warrior, but with no yoki aura at all.

"Much faster than a human."