Subtle Wings [Closed]

Quinn's lips curved into a smile at the response, finding strange sort of amusement in the other's humor. If it could even be called as such - Shyvana didn't appear to find any comedy in it. "Yes, you're correct." Her eyebrow quirked upwards at the mention of an interrogation. She shook her head. "Nothing of the sort, I assure you." After all, it would be dangerous of her to attempt any such thing, especially with a half-dragon capable of ripping her apart. Never the one to pass on an opportunity, the ranger took this moment to study the other briefly yet carefully.

Shyvana appeared to be mildly annoyed at the interruption, but that was no surprise. Her voice prior to fading transformed to dull to something with a little more emotion poured in. Just a little. Her eyes themselves were a burning scarlet, unafraid to make eye contact as Quinn felt a familiar heat rise just above her collar. As it usually did when she was talked to so callously. It was good to know that hadn't changed, she thought to herself. Shyvana's molten orbs remained upon her, and Quinn cleared her throat.

Despite it all, her voice was calm. There was no fear as she gestured around herself to the empty pathways, then slowly towards the direction of the mansion. "I saw you exiting the Crownguard Manor," she stated bluntly. She was never talented when it came to pleasantries, and any attempt to mimic noble speech always turned sour for her far too quickly. Not that she cared enough to try. Her hand came back to her front as she crossed her arms loosely. "Not that you'd really care, but I did have some... strange business with them." It was a mild way to put it, and Quinn was trying not to get into the details.

"I've invested personal interest in their house," this came out in a low murmur, as if she was embarrassed to acknowledge the fact. She quickly coughed and continued, her fingers subconsciously squeezing into her forearms. Though her voice remained light, devoid of any betrayal, she could taste the plasticity on her tongue. "As such, you understand why I would be concerned when I saw you, of all people, leaving their gates."

She watched the dragon's eyes follow her gesture with open curiosity, tempted to chuckle a little. Shyvana, for all her fierceness, still appeared quite naive. She didn't care for politics or the intricacies of the court. Quinn kept silent as her unwilling companion responded, to her surprise, with blatant honesty. She would have expected a growling dismissal, that it was 'none of her business' so to speak. Still, the bluntness was refreshing. The ranger rolled the other's words around her mind, the names ringing no familiar bells in her head. "It is strange of you to offer such help." Quinn mused, mostly to herself if anything. Though she might have found herself doing the very same thing, it seemed odd to her that Shyvana would go out of her way to help others.

Before she could dwell on this idea further, the ranger noted the rather light shade of red currently residing upon Shyvana's face. A pink face with a bright surface - the dragon did not sound sick, but she certainly looked it. However, ill or not, it did not stop the halfling from posing her own, probing question. Quinn rolled her shoulders in a half shrug, opening her mouth to give a vague response before the mutter caught her right off guard. Shyvana's look had transformed from inquisitive to demure in almost a second, and for some reason, the very idea made her chuckle quietly.

"Clearly you wish to know, if you asked." The ranger said, returning the gaze coolly. She smiled again, the gesture never reaching her eyes as she fell into step next to Shyvana. There was no reason for her to follow, as her point of destination was decidedly behind her. But there was something about the dragon that intrigued her. They were both similar, in many senses, yet Shyvana seemed... uncertain. She supposed it was too far to say she wanted to pursue a friendship with the half dragon beside her, but she certainly wanted to know where a dragon learned to be so embarrassed when they were normally so bold.

"Business involving cargo of sorts," still, her interest was not piqued enough to give Shyvana information on a silver platter. "Are you feeling sick?" Quinn asked suddenly, turning her face to peer at the other's countenance a little more closely, though still kept a respectable distance. "You seem a little under the weather."

Quinn nodded in assent, as if it were obvious but she said no more. That was the point, wasn't it? That the task was so inconsequential, a decision based solely upon helping someone else, the dragon would trouble herself with it. That was what Demacia did - they protected the innocent and they helped those who could not help themselves. Yet, as far as she knew, a dragon's ideals and beliefs were different. Did Shyvana expect that, to belong, she must mould herself into the society she now lived in? The ranger flicked her gaze from the half-dragon, then back to her surroundings as the feeling faded, the inquiry coming to an open.

"Of course it would," was her quiet response. She hummed beneath her breath, tasting her own words like a dainty wine. She had only ever had the pleasure of tasting such a delicacy once, and she found herself hating the way the flavors seeped into her tongue and remained. "I did not take you for... a common listener," she almost laughed at her own choice of words, "But I suppose the actions of such an esteemed house would have that effect."

Quinn's voice remained fluid, always turning one way then the other, almost as if she were contemplating her next course of action. But the reaction was enough for her to catch her thoughts and seal them in a jar, even as the other's almost indignant tone rattled her ears. It was only when Shyvana stopped and barked did the ranger raise an eyebrow, "Is it?" It certainly wasn't beyond the realms of possibility, but as quickly as the flame surged it died once more.

"The business I have elsewhere can wait," she tilted her head then took a step forward almost as if she was expecting Shyvana to do the same, but instead of walking, she turned so that she was essentially blocking the other's path. "What I truly desire does not come from you, dragon." But for all her words and the weight she put in it, her expression remained still, "If you mean to ask why I am imposing myself on you," how official, it sounded. The words wept against her lips but still she continued, "It is because I am curious. Do you not get these urges? When sometimes, you simply need to... know?"

The dragon's strange, heavy breaths were suggestive, if Quinn had to be perfectly honest with herself. The way the dragon's skin was tainted with streaks of rose and the way a steamy growl had streamed forth from the other's thinly pressed lips was indication enough of both irritation and strange inquisition. Though her own curiosity was waning, a slight pang of pain rippled through her spine - it reminded her that she still had business to attend to and that the dragon, for all her excuses, could not be at the Crownguard Manor just for a simple escort mission. However, her unwilling companion seemed to pause just as her thoughts did.

"Constant fascination," she repeated, almost as if mocking the dragon's own words, though it was more to herself if anything else. It was strange to think that, had Shyvana not been an outcast, she would not be here. The dragon was moving closer and Quinn inched herself backwards in synchronization. The lack of distance was, for the lack of a better word, bothering her. "It is strange to think that we revolt you," the ranger seemed to muse, "Despite being one of us." She was treading on thin ice now, but she appeared unafraid of the other's convictions.

It was only when Shyvana's mouth was practically breathing flames on her did she step backwards a little further as she continued. "Urges of curiosity is rarely simple? Curiosity itself is the simple part," she tapped her fingers against her arm, "It is the reasons behind the curiosity that is complicated."

Quinn cocked her head to the side, fingers pressing palms lightly, squeezing in thought. "Yes, I have no understanding of your torment," she said at first, softly and evenly. Though her voice hardened the barest second after and she continued without giving Shyvana a chance to respond. "Nor do you have understanding of mine." Yes, Shyvana had been shunned and the only person who had accepted her in her youth had been killed. Quinn did know this, yet misfortune can never be calculated by comparison. "We are not the same, but we both have pains in which we must bare." She eyed the dragon, golden rimmed irises both challenging and bold. "Some more so than others."

She could practically feel the steam wetting her cheeks, and it was a strange sensation to be sure. It made her slightly uncomfortable. Quinn bit her lower lip gently and while their conversation was far from cordial, she still attempted to maintain some form of refinement in her actions. She politely turned her head slightly to the side as Shyvana inched in a little closer. She had probably taken a few too many steps. "I'd rather prefer it," she began, as her heel edged backwards a little further, "If you stopped calling me 'human' and 'ranger'. Unless you appreciate my calls of dragon and halfling."

Despite being thoroughly searched by blazing crimson, Quinn's gaze remained firm and resolute. She considered herself half lucky that Shyvana hadn't simply exploded into a dragon of fury, but rather, she seemed more composed than the ranger was used to. She tilted her gaze down towards the ground, passing along the other's scaled armor. The black-purple of the metal bleed into the gold rims of each individual piece - perhaps that was why the dragon always appeared so warm. There was hardly any room to breathe in there, but the ranger quickly ripped her mind away from that line of thought.

Still sounding as if she had just run a marathon, Shyvana's voice was low, maintaining the tell-tale rasp she had heard many times on the Fields. Still, the contents were surprising. Enough that Quinn's eyes widened slightly as an odd sound emerged from the halfling's throat - small interruptions in breath that could only be described as... a chuckle? A laugh? She frowned slightly. Surely it was a mistake. Rather than being rewarded with a snap to the neck, the dragon too was equally polite.

Then she blinked as her name was called, and as dusk trickled below the faint shadows of the buildings, Quinn felt her own breath snap against her ribs. She did not move backwards, for she feared falling over yet moving forwards was simply out of the question. She wondered if this was what happened before a dragon attacked their prey, lulling them into a false sense of security (however unlikely it seemed). "... what was that?" She ventured cautiously, amber eyes narrowing.