She recognizes this girl -- the girl who approached her pool, who purports to have a duty to guard the spirits Tui and La.
The one who offers herself to be known.
All of this flicks through the mind of the Mother of Faces, though as ever, her thoughts and that recognition do not show in her features. And though the face she herself wears is different than the one Mia knows; it does not immediately occur to her that she will not be recognized.
Her chin lifts somewhat, the pencil tossed to the sill. "I have seen a man try this skill. By all measures, it should be more simple than my own work . . . yet it eludes me."
Yet she does not even know how to hold the pencil, and that is annoying. A human -- and not even a particularly bright one! -- mastered something than she has not.
no subject
The one who offers herself to be known.
All of this flicks through the mind of the Mother of Faces, though as ever, her thoughts and that recognition do not show in her features. And though the face she herself wears is different than the one Mia knows; it does not immediately occur to her that she will not be recognized.
Her chin lifts somewhat, the pencil tossed to the sill. "I have seen a man try this skill. By all measures, it should be more simple than my own work . . . yet it eludes me."
Yet she does not even know how to hold the pencil, and that is annoying. A human -- and not even a particularly bright one! -- mastered something than she has not.