Birds, bees, and booze

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

Sunjata’s legs stretch out just a tiny bit with the amount of room offered from Boreal trying to soothe Tal, and it gives him a moment of reprieve of his thoughts as he runs his hands along Petronella’s scales and fur, while she seems to grow a bit more resigned, her horned head butting against the side of the Flood’s briefly before her gilded attention returns to the patrons (a few of them confused at seeing the much smaller sea panther amongst their midst).

“Should be. But, if you want to make it more Frey-esque, bring some things to try.” A casual shrug, a small smile blooming from the corner of his lips that twists in a way that’s crooked from the scar. And perhaps the next set of words to leave his mouth are precisely why Frey had chosen him, because it surprises even himself with how close to his god it sounds like as it falls from his scarred lips. “You might learn a lot about yourself while you’re testing things out.” It’s punctuated with a wink, before the Flood settles back easily.

Experimentation certainly seemed up the alley Frey might approve of.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA