audette rousseau

The French word left her lips quite unbidden, the girl naturally returning to her mother tongue more frequently than not. That puzzled look upon her company's face, however, prompted a giggle on her lips as the young ballerina realized her mistake. "Ah, non, Adrien, it is French, not a food." She corrected him, a feminine grin dancing upon her lips all the while. His inquiry of her species, however, only furthered that girlish giggle upon her lips and yet, in this, her species was, perhaps, distinctly curious. She had been told, of course, of what she was, of how their kind was made, mere ghosts fluttering upon a human plane. Food, therefore, was hardly a necessity and yet...how Audette had strove to be human more than she had ever embraced her fae origins. Her admittance that she had never gone without food, however, seemed to baffle him, provoking some measure of deeper thought that Adrien had failed to voice. His insistence that he would make a terrible fae, if only for his simple love of food was a sentiment that Audette understood well. "Ah, mon amie, I agree! How one could live without pain au chocolat, I will never know!" An almost wistful sound crossed her lips at the very mention of that French dessert. America failed to do her French goods any true justice!

Her vague mention of that French countryside seemed to fascinate him, the Dark Hunter commenting softly on that country she had left behind. A soft, almost sad simper crossed her fair lips before the young woman nodded firmly. "Oui, sometimes more than others," Audette admitted, and how could she not? France would always be the place her heart truly resided, how some days she yearned for the French country air, for the local cafe that knew her by name and her order by heart, for those days she might have meandered through the village and those evenings spend at the winery with her ballet friends. Ah! To leave it all behind had been...a struggle, at the very least. His inquiry of what her home had been like, however, caused her head to tilt to the side in contemplation. She remained quiet, however, simply listening to her companion as he spoke of the homes he had, and the one he preferred. "There are fields for as far as you can see. The hills are filled with them - with flowers and vineyards and berries. We lived in a village at the center of it called Riquewihr...it is...ah...very old." There was something picturesque about that town that never changed - it's cobblestone streets and medieval houses...it was so far removed from Paris and Sacrosanct.

Their conversation, however, was interrupted by the waitress's abrupt return, drinks and small plates so quickly filled up the table in front of her and how Audette watched it all in awe! Her clove colored irises danced over each enticing plate, the girl almost uncertain where to start! The patatas alioli were closest to her, the young woman picking up her fork to point at the dish with the tip of it. "Ummm, these, I think. What is this?" She inquired, glancing up at the man in vague curiosity. His insistence to let her 'senses' be her guide prompted her brow to rise and yet, Audette had little hesitation as her fork scooped into the potato dish, the young woman entirely content to stick the first bite in her mouth. She had hardly realized that it was potatos, the creamy mixture undeniably delectable, prompting a soft "Mmmm" from her lips. Audette was hardly one to stick with just one dish, however, the girl determined to taste at least one of everything.