Chapter Text
The next airship isn’t arriving for around half a bell, and Cirina has been keeping herself busy in the meantime. She threads the needle through the hoop slowly and surely; she has grown much more confident in her weaving since she first started, and her motions are not nearly so shaky or nervous as they once were. Yet, she is still slow, and with every new idea comes new difficulties. But she is learning, and she is advancing, slowly but surely.
“Are you excited to visit Limsa, Cirina?” Cirina startles in place, almost pricking herself with the needle. So concentrated has she been in her weaving she had completely forgotten everything around her. Mother Miounne titters good-naturedly at her fumbling. “Don’t become too engrossed or you’re like to miss the airship.” Cirina nods hesitantly, stowing her current project—a chemise for sleeping, dyed in a pretty pink—in her pack.
Mother Miounne hums to herself, staring intently at her book before she closes it with a soft snap. “You’ve never been to Limsa, have you?” Cirina shakes her head. Mother Miounne smiles softly. “I had suspected as much. Well then, you simply must visit The Bismarck!” Miounne claps her hands together; Cirina tilts her head at her. “Limsa is famed for its cuisine, and none is more renowned than the Bismarck.” Suddenly Miounne begins shuffling around in her pockets, looking for something; she grabs a handful of gil and sets it on the counter, motioning Cirina over. “For you, my dear. ‘tis not much—no you must take it! I insist!” Cirina sighs and reluctantly grabs the handful of gil and places it in her coinpurse.
Miounne clears her throat and continues, “as I was saying: ‘tis not much, barely a hundred gil, but it is enough for a meal or for two.” She smiles wryly at the other woman and adds, “you can’t live off of Mother Miounne’s famous eel pie forever.” Cirina ducks her head, her cheeks flushed with embarassment. The bell rings out in the Carline Canopy signalling the imminent arrival of the airship; Miounne shoos her with one hand and as Cirina turns to leave she calls out, “and do make sure to greet Mother upon your return!” Cirina ducks her head, her neck flushed with embarassment, but waves goodbye all the same.