[ It isn't that Maren is unaccustomed to praise. Her grandmother praised her. Her friends, few though they were, hadn't been shy about praising her when it was earned. Praise was, well, nice. It could be embarrassing, but in this particular instance, she couldn't quite help that tiny swell in her chest when Kazue said those words. As quick as she is, she couldn't have told anyone why, in that moment, she trusted more than doubted those words; though, her insecurity bubbled up with a tiny spike in anxiety when the ball came back to her.
She caught it, though, and concentrated on returning it the same way. Technique, technique -- ]
R-really?
[ If not for the heat and beads of sweat rolling down the back of her neck, she might have forgotten how quickly they were moving. ]
no subject
She caught it, though, and concentrated on returning it the same way. Technique, technique -- ]
R-really?
[ If not for the heat and beads of sweat rolling down the back of her neck, she might have forgotten how quickly they were moving. ]