ooc: added in Everilda and Caldo, feel free to add more, Jehan
ic: Gitana cradled her bari lavuta against her chest as she walked. It was cased, tucked away into a wooden piece carved and decorated by her gran-dadrus. She had been doing remarkably well since learning that her mother had passed, but only well in regards to what other people saw. She smiled and jested, maintained an open, boisterous spirit as if she were happy, at ease with the news that Hanzi had brought...completely unaffected. But she was torn and broken inside, feeling such heartache that her mother was gone...that she had left them to die elsewhere. It was small comfort that they could, at least, sing their mother to follow the path of the stars for she was no longer with them following the steady, hard path of the dirt.
She looked briefly at her brother, knowing that her behavior irked him, but fearing to dissemble. She didn't want to crumble. She didn't want to be the weak one who could not hold up or best her hurt. If he was angry he would get past it. He was her prala. He would eventually understand and forgive her for it. She hoped.
Everilda came with them, eyes red and misty. There were few moments when she hadn't been crying. Their mother's death had hit her hard, but Gitana found her attempts to comfort met with irritation and stinging barbs and a glance almost as angry as Jehan's. Was her facade of happiness that hurtful that they'd be so angry towards her? She tried to ignore it and instead tried her hand at joking with Caldo as they walked, enjoying the easy banter that allowed her some escape from her emotions.
Interaction helped, because it gave Gitana something to focus on. She grinned at Venn as he was produced and introduced.
"Zamutro! A pleasure to meet one who has wed to my pena." Her common was broken, interlaced with Aire; she'd been a poor study with the common tongue, though perhaps better than her prala. She studied him, this strange looking creature who was certainly gaje and not even human at that...this evident most of all in his eyes. She plastered a smile on her face because she was in no mood to be anything other than cheery--or some semblance of it; another time and she might have been lofty, a little distant, for he was gaje, though married to her pena as he was.
"It is...misto...to have another person to call familiya, avrah?" She smiled faintly as her words failed her.
ooc: choosing the
light color for common,
the purple for Aire