Christa ran her hands through her unruly hair. “You don’t… There isn’t something wrong with my ears, is there?” she whispered, voice cracking.
Sinna shook her head instantly. “Of course not, Christa. W-Why would you think that?”
“Vaniel,” she answered and peered out through the bars.
Sinna tried and failed to think of an appropriate yet lady-like epithet. “Your ears are lovely, Christa.” She shifted a little closer. “Vaniel’s being s-stupid. Like her brother.”
Sinnasarel Tamaran, or Sinna to her few friends, is nearing her final years at the Roost and eager to use what she has learned to better the lives of her family. The daughter of farmers from the plains of Ellsabae, the day she learned she would have the chance to become a Hawk is the proudest of her 42 years. Unfortunately, that excitement wasn’t destined to last. Ridiculed for her pale hair, a sure sign of her lower station, as well as the stutter in her speech, she found friends during her early years hard to come by. It wasn’t until she reached her third tier that she began to find friends among the newcomers to the Roost, including Westrel and Darian both outsiders themselves.
So, it was only natural she should take Christabel under her wing. Someone that lost and alone needed looking after, and Sinna was happy to oblige. Besides, the half-human was so fascinating. All of her quirks and odd mannerisms–the way she kept waving her hand in the air whenever someone passed by–even the way she managed to unknowingly defy all the traditions Sinna’s parents had drilled into her since she was a child. But most of all, Sinna liked her because Christa was something altogether lacking in the Roost. Fun.
Well… Most of the time.