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Vandal is... nervous. She knows she shouldn't be and she knows that it's completely unlike her but how can she not? With other people, it's easy enough to let loose and enjoy herself, divulge in her wants, lower her inhibitions and she feels comfortable doing that, laying herself bare for all to see and judge how they see fit. It's who she is. She does what she wants, when she wants, without any care for who might think what because that doesn't affect her. They can think whatever they want and she'll still do things that please her as long as she isn't hurting anyone in the process. That's Vandal. That's who she is. That's who she's always been, dead or alive.

Around certain people, though, she's inclined to act a bit differently. Take how she acts around Deldrach, for example - she's always too keen on showing off for the jaglion that she ends up making a fool of herself most times, but whether Deldrach offers her a smile or an annoyed roll of her eyes, it's a reaction that Vandal will take, because she knows that it means she's being acknowledged. Another example is Fischer, who Vandal tends to be a bit more... careful around. She still acts the way she acts, the way other people know her, but because Fischer had been the first one Vandal had even crushed on paired with the fact that Fischer has seen her at her weakest - well, she can't help but feel a bit more tentative, unsure, not wanting to make a fool of herself or turn the other away.

While Vandal has entertained the thought of pursuing her, she's long-since guessed that Fischer might not look at her that way - and that's okay with Vandal, she's more than happy to just pursue a friendship instead - but that doesn't mean that those feelings of admiration just automatically fade away. She might be stupid sometimes but she knows how emotions work, she knows the effect of pushing something away so much that it impacts a large portion of one's life. With Del, it's a bit more... complicated. Del doesn't seem like her biggest fan, but Del doesn't outright dislike her either, which is always a good sign. There's just this - this weird dynamic between them that she can't put her paw on that makes her want to get more reactions out of her. This push-and-pull, yank-and-shove, a back and forth that's rather fun to be a part of, and she likes that.

That's Vandal, how she acts around the people she likes, and the prospect of maybe meeting another that will catch her eye? She's definitely nervous. She doesn't know who she's been paired with, but the last thing she wants is to leave a bad first impression, regardless if she's naturally prone to those. She wants to try her hardest this time, maybe get a new little source of inspiration from it or, at the very least, a friend to hang around with that isn't her siblings or whoever is unfortunate enough to be subject to her presence.

So Vandal dresses up a bit - and by dressing up, she means she cleaned herself extra well and made sure that each jet-black feather is meticulously arranged on each wing. There's a small white bowtie hanging around her neck, and her mane has been combed over and decorated with braids and seashells - sure, it's probably a little corny, maybe even a little extra, but Vandal's entire personality is extra and she knows this, might as well live it up to the fullest. She even has a small bouquet of forget-me-nots. Why not right?

When she enters the little hut, she's very impressed by what Jacob has made. She's immediately drawn to the music player, sifting through the discs until she finds - ah, perfect - something that looks like it's easy to listen to, a group called 'The Paper Kites' if she can read it correctly. She sets the disc in and lets it fill the room with the first track's easy folk melody - the song's called 'Bloom' and it has a nice tune, a gentle strumming melody, and soft voices blending in the background. With that set up, Vandal sits down on one of the cushions and waits patiently for whoever her date is supposed to be to arrive.

;; i... did not mean to write something this long, i swear

Vandal is... stunned, to say the least. Of all the people she could've been paired with, she's paired with Fischer, walking through the door and looking as beautiful as she had been when the maned wolf first saw her. She thinks it might be a dream, but the way Fischer looks - stunning, shocked, familiar - tells her otherwise. There's a fleeting moment of something in the air; the rune on Vandal's chest flickers for a moment before continuing its steady glow, and her gaze lower in embarrassment when she feels her face heat up. She knows Fischer is... not interested, but the attraction Vandal has for her is still burning in her veins.

Vandal doesn't notice that Fischer has cut the distance between them until she's speaking again, commenting on her look. The effect is immediate on her, ears flickering and eyes drifting up again, pools of bright neon as she takes in how Fischer looks more closely and, god - "You're beautiful..." She doesn't realize she'd spoken out loud until she hears her soft voice dancing in the air, and suddenly she's ducking her head all over again in humiliation, chiding herself for not being able to handle her impulses well enough (they've gotten her in too much trouble before, after all).

She keeps her head tucked, thinking, feeling all too much, until Fischer's speaking again and the only thing running through her mind is some variation of you. She realizes she probably isn't helping the situation, the budding awkwardness - she gives her wings a bit of a stretch and shakes herself, gives herself a pep talk that she quite clearly needs - and lets a small smile play on her pointed muzzle, expression rippling across her face. A droplet, it's all she needs.

"A brownie would be nice, if that's a'right," she says politely, steeling her voice as much as she could given the surreal situation. There's still this - this fragility in the air, paper-thin floors and ice-thin walls, one that she's afraid to mistakenly break. She keeps her distance out of respect but turns to face Fischer to avoid being rude. The last thing she wants is to ruin the night. She knows she's got no chance - but at least... at least she can help make it a nice, relaxing night for both of them, right? "Hey Fischer, imagine the odds right? M'starting to think the whole thing might'a been rigged."

Vandal definitely isn't pulling up any Aces tonight, as it seems.

While Fischer's response to her compliment is short, it causes a smile to curl on Vandal's face anyway, shy and hidden when she ducks her head behind her talon. She's rubbing at her cheeks, which have begun to hurt from smiling so much already, but she dares not to let the expression slip away. It feels good to smile this easily, this giddily, this excitedly - this, this bashfully. Vandal is not someone who is quick to be embarrassed but she finds she quite likes to rush it brings. She definitely is a fan of the searing temperature of her face, heat creeping up to fill what seems like her entire being.

"Well, I do like things that taste good..." Her voice trails on before breaking off into a fluid rasp of a chuckle, one that settles low, comfortably, in the bottom of her throat. The sound fills the four walls of the hut with its gentle, easy nature. "Like brownies. Brownies taste good." It seems she can't hold on to her innuendos either. Where she would've held on and smiled impishly, she instead lets go in gentle, mirthful chimes.

Her body eases into something more relaxed when Fischer comes back, slides the plate towards her with a brownie on top. Vandal's eyes are still on her though, inquisitive and warm; Fischer really is beautiful, she thinks, especially with the shadows dancing on her cheeks from the flickering candlelight Jacob had left behind. She wonders if she can capture this moment forever. A part of her wants to tell her she's willing to share anything with her, if she'd let her - but Vandal keeps that to herself. Too heavy, she decides, too full when the moment is already close to bursting.

She keeps it like a secret, holds it to her chest, and responds differently. "Why wouldn't I? I'd probably jus' give it away, anyway. I don' need a lot of things in life, as difficult as that might be to believe - I jus' need company." What she admits, while serious, is spoken with a graceful tongue, careful to keep each word light despite their true weight - they flutter in the air, casting no weight. Her pensive expression changes at Fischer's admission of having taken the wrong drink, the sides of her eyes crinkling with a soft, enamored smile.

"Please don' apologize, Fischer," she begins, name pirouetting off her tongue, "I'm tellin' you right now. I know where I stand with you, but that doesn't mean m'not gonna try to give you a good, easy time." She means it, every word; she knows where she stands, she knows what she can't be to her - but Vandal is eager to at least make her smile wide by the end of the night. Her heart is yearning, she knows, yearning for the connection, stretching out into the space between them and waiting for something to touch it back (she still hopes, but she'll lie if anybody asks her to admit it).

"Here, allow me," comes her murmur, padding over to the refreshments and picking out what she assumes to be the water. Her lips part to taste the air, to let its clarity dance in her mouth. A confirmation. "Here's the water. Don' worry, I've made that same mistake before. Probably more times than I can count." She wanders over, places the full glass of water next to Fischer and lingers for only a split-second before returning to her own pillow. Conflicted, too. Conflicted, torn, stretched between contrasting sides - Fischer really is something else. "What about you? Not hungry, or jus' not feelin' the whole sweet-tooth thing?"

; weLP apparently this thread gives me a lot of good muse