terrible fates - open

[Keona.]

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keona sibéal ní faoláin.
the typhoon.
the blind dealer.
information.

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[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2a4971; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 13px;"]Idir brí is idir muir, Tá mé i dtiúin

Distinctly antisocial.  Introverted.  The tiny wildcat made for an interesting dealer.  But work meant a great deal to her.  Keeping her paws busy.  Doing something good for the crew.  That's all she wanted.  To do good by her crew.

There was rarely a direct drive to be social.  It was simply checking in.  Keeping up to date.  Knowing how everyone was doing.  Local news.  Local gossip too, though she cared less for that.  But she was diligent... Or perhaps hyper-active.  Prone to throw herself into work, just to be moving about.

A listener more than a speaker, the truth of her work actually didn't drain her as much as it could.  So long no one forced her to be the center of conversation.  There were off days of course.  When Keona longed to stay in the Sky Parlor.  Reading a book.

But today the petite dealer was her usual self.  Quietly padding through the camp.  Had a routine starting with the bay.  Where her perked ears caught a yawn.  Inhaling softly and turning her head towards Riftweaver.  Pale hues light.  Simply curious.  "Aloha," she offered, dipping her head.  "How're you, Riftweaver?"

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© MADI