- The drider, having stopped sweating for quite a bit, once again felt a wave of heat hitting her forehead, together with a shiver across her entire spine. The words the drow had selected had touched her soul - be that her aura or whatever else it was, if it even existed - as the child within her finally got the recognition it had been striving for, for twenty-six long years. 'Sweet?' He had called her - of all things of the underworld, a drider - 'sweet?' Instinctively, she raised her eyebrows, lowering the level of her eyes without amending the position of her head. Thoughts had quickly flushed her mind, as though they were a biological reaction to an infected wound.
Suddenly and without a warning, an ironic smirk was drawn on Kalandrin's face, as though she had not taken Dee's remark seriously. "Nah, go away" she muttered, the expression soon developing into a grin that could possibly scare off the average biped due to the fangs it revealed. Her eyes remained fixed on the ground, as the grin faded and got replaced by thoughts. Was he serious? Was he playing with her? Did he happen to have any motives to do this? Was it manipulation, what he was doing, or was it genuine expression of thoughts? Whatever it was, it was hard to believe he was honest, if only because she was so stubborn.
"Then again, Dee could have meant it" thought the Ne'kalsaider, biting her lower lip out of instinct; a sign she was feeling uncertain. Whatever the truth was, it did manage to make her feel special - for once, not in the manner giving her the impression she was an aberration of nature, but in a good way. It was G'eldyl the last person that made her feel that way with her comments - or was it Masendriea? Whoever of the two, she had not seen either for long ages, and as such, her soft heart, surrounded by a shell of adamantium, opened up and welcomed the comment, secretly hoping not for something hurting to follow soon.
As the two waited in the edge of the room, away from the inferno but still technically inside it, Kalandrin felt utter incapability to move the slightest portion of her body. Was it a weakness? Was it an emotion? Was it a person? This forge was cursed by demons, she thought jokingly, and people seemed to play with her. For a reason, she loved this situation, even though she failed to admit it; being touched, being complimented, feeling special whatsoever. And all that, with a person she barely knew yet, even though they had met several days ago. Simply... amazing?