(Untitled)

[a_lioness]

Alanna's decision to hold her morning Shang practice by the Milliways lake can be boiled down to one simple fact: it isn't raining here. The obvious extension of this is that it is raining in Tortall, great big buckets of the stuff, soaking through even the thickest cloaks and rushes, forming inconvenient puddles of questionable depth and

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[a_lioness]

Shang is nowhere near as effortless as Liam always made it look. Balance, once lost, is not easily regained. Raph screams; Alanna nearly topples over in the middle of a kick.

Her frustration is equally vocal, though the snarl she directs over her shoulder quickly transforms into a snort when she catches sight of Raph.

"Look who had enough sense to come in out of the rain."

[a_lioness]

Alanna watches.

Why not.

"No loin cloth?" she asks, mildly.

Eyebrow arched, she turns back around and does the kick again, correctly this time.

[a_lioness]

Ah.

The she in question might not, but suddenly Raph's behavior does. Alanna covers a smile with a low cough.

"What has the lovely Abigail done to bedevil you now, my friend?"

[a_lioness]

"Goddess. Perhaps doing nothing," Alanna hazards, "was the wrong thing to do?"

It does seem to be something of a trend with him, she thinks. Crouching down, she plucks a piece of grass and eyes him. Then, realizing this isn't the best angle given his current attire, she slowly stands with a thoughtful frown on her face.

"When did this start?"

[a_lioness]

Again, "Ah."

Valiantly, Alanna refrains from saying well, he does have a nice head of hair. Her life is so hard sometimes.

"Explain more," she suggests in that way that sounds more like an order.

[a_lioness]

Alanna considers this for a moment.

"The children were," she points out thoughtfully. "It didn't seem to take."

True, if ultimately unhelpful.

"I can't imagine that bothered Abigail."

[a_lioness]

"I'm not surprised." It's dry. Her children provide very detailed reports, when it suits them. "Did he know about Abigail?"

[a_lioness]

"What did he think you did together?" Alanna asks, leaning forward to frown at his ears with almost scholarly interest. She's never seen quite that shade of red before, and she knows red. "Weave blankets?"

Clearly, poor Leo should learn to knock.

"Though Thom would have suffered a heart attack in similar circumstances, I'm sure."