Look a squirrel

Madeline’s gaze softened, though her stance remained composed. She allowed the silence to linger, letting the weight of Deyran’s words settle in the room.

You misunderstand, she said, her voice quiet but firm. This isn’t about my opinion of you, Deyran. It’s about what you have proven to yourself. Your training, your perseverance, and the choices you’ve made—they’ve earned this. She gestured slightly toward the blade, her fingers brushing the air as though outlining the path he’d walked to reach this moment.

She watched him, her expression both encouraging and challenging. These tools carry expectations, yes, but they aren’t beyond you. They’re a reflection of the skill I’ve already seen you possess. Remember, gifts like these hold power only when wielded by someone capable and worthy.

Madeline took a slow breath, as if grounding herself in the gravity of her words. I wouldn’t have gone to such lengths if I had any doubt in your strength or judgment. A hint of a smile crossed her face as she folded her arms again, her tone shifting to something softer, almost teasing. And in any case, if you’re unworthy, you’ll discover that very quickly. These tools do not forgive weakness.

She paused, studying him for a moment longer. But I don’t believe they’ll find you lacking.

@Deyran