Gideon's painted skull is not as detailed as Harrow's – it never is – but with the word dashing ricocheting around her brain, fueled by hormones and ten years of repressed emotions, she has at least attempted a design she knows Harrow likes.
It might be somewhat dampened by the black t-shirt she's wearing that reads I'd flex but I like this shirt. Bar has also provided her a small mp3 player that she has clipped to the neck of the shirt and its headphones are looped around her neck. It's loaded with songs she doesn't know but already loves, and some tinny sounds float from where the earbuds rest against the hollow of her shoulder.
She does, in fact, catch on to the change. "Moiraine?" she says, leadingly.
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Gideon's painted skull is not as detailed as Harrow's – it never is – but with the word dashing ricocheting around her brain, fueled by hormones and ten years of repressed emotions, she has at least attempted a design she knows Harrow likes.
It might be somewhat dampened by the black t-shirt she's wearing that reads I'd flex but I like this shirt. Bar has also provided her a small mp3 player that she has clipped to the neck of the shirt and its headphones are looped around her neck. It's loaded with songs she doesn't know but already loves, and some tinny sounds float from where the earbuds rest against the hollow of her shoulder.
She does, in fact, catch on to the change. "Moiraine?" she says, leadingly.