It seems that there isn't a day or night that Betonyfrost doesn't think of Chilledgaze, if only in passing. They had touched Betonyfrost the other day, little more than a nudge to their shoulder. Yet the space there feels warmer, as if an infection has set in. Betonyfrost cannot stop thinking about it. Such a small moment-- had Chilledgaze even noticed?-- and yet Betonyfrost cannot stop thinking about it. Each time she recalls the memory it is like a river washing the edges from a stone, buffing blemishes into nothing, and Betonyfrost cannot stop thinking about it.
Do they know of the power they hold over Betonyfrost's lovelorn heart?
She very nearly almost doesn't even notice Canarywatcher, who so casually splinters Betonyfrost's heart like a brittle leaf beneath a paw.
"Oh...?" Is all Betonyfrost says, her face impassive. Inside, her heart beats faster and a heat rises up to her ears. Inside, she thinks why are you telling me this? and she thinks that doesn't make any sense! and she thinks they are free to do what they want-- Chilledgaze isn't mine.
And she is so, so very angry.
Her face twitches like she is about to flinch and then settles back into calm. She opens her mouth and then closes it again. The toad is shoved with more force than necessary back to Canarywatcher's feet; Betonyfrost isn't hungry at the moment. She thinks if Canarywatcher says anything more to her, the words would be lost beneath the thunder of her own heart.
"Do you think--?" Betonyfrost starts, her tone surprisingly conversational, "I mean, did it seem... serious? Springflame, he's always walked on his own side of the fence."
But oh, had that changed? Springflame would tell her these things, Betonyfrost thinks, and then thinks almost as quickly that maybe he wouldn't tell her these things.
