[Whatever Beatrix may be thinking, which is merely idle curiosity at the present moment, it doesn’t reflect much in her expression. Most things don’t. If anything, she almost always looks a touch displeased. Unamused. Annoyed. It’s easiest to always look that way. Then few can determine whatever she may be thinking or feeling truly.
It’s a wonderful self-defence mechanism.
She watches Susato and waits patiently, perhaps eyeing her reaction more closely than others might. She’s trying to draw out information by way of observation alone. Words, after all, are not the only things that can be used to express one’s self.]
They do a bit. Primroses, perhaps. Not quite a real rose, I do not think.
[But what does she know? Beatrix doesn’t spend a lot of time looking after any other plants than real roses. Susato holds it to herself and Beatrix takes several moments to simply assess her.]
It looks beautiful. But what I think hardly matters. Is it something that you like? If not, I can find something else.
no subject
It’s a wonderful self-defence mechanism.
She watches Susato and waits patiently, perhaps eyeing her reaction more closely than others might. She’s trying to draw out information by way of observation alone. Words, after all, are not the only things that can be used to express one’s self.]
They do a bit. Primroses, perhaps. Not quite a real rose, I do not think.
[But what does she know? Beatrix doesn’t spend a lot of time looking after any other plants than real roses. Susato holds it to herself and Beatrix takes several moments to simply assess her.]
It looks beautiful. But what I think hardly matters. Is it something that you like? If not, I can find something else.