i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide
being pulled by the moon in a high tide
He doesn’t intend to frighten the dragon more, and concedes to leaving the morsel of food for Melita to offer to the dragon or for Fangorn to keep in his own little made up plate of food so that he can withdraw, wash his hands as it shifts back into his typical, scarred skin, and plates up his own meal before joining Melita at the table, letting the awkward silence nag at him in ways he isn’t quite sure how to deal with aside from the soft little “you’re welcome,” that leaves him after she thanks him.
Thankfully, she breaks the awkwardness, though his story of what he’s been up to hasn’t been much. Perhaps that’s for the best – no longer out there making stupid and ridiculous choices all under the guise of protecting those he loved. “Nothing really. I’ve been working on a Frey quest I intend to finish soon, but other than that just making sure the House of Midnight is in good shape.” He’s been invited to the Hanged Man reopening, but he isn’t sure if that’s important enough information at this moment.
“What about you? Has Jack descended upon the Grounds yet?” A small crooked smile tugs at his scarred face with the question, recalling the conversation of frustration over heading back to the shithole that was the Hollowed Grounds. And while he waits, he pours himself a small glass of wine, before taking a bite from the ramphire steak, surprising himself with the taste of it. It obviously isn’t as good as Nate might have cooked once, but it’s better than anything else he’s ever managed to make himself.
Thankfully, she breaks the awkwardness, though his story of what he’s been up to hasn’t been much. Perhaps that’s for the best – no longer out there making stupid and ridiculous choices all under the guise of protecting those he loved. “Nothing really. I’ve been working on a Frey quest I intend to finish soon, but other than that just making sure the House of Midnight is in good shape.” He’s been invited to the Hanged Man reopening, but he isn’t sure if that’s important enough information at this moment.
“What about you? Has Jack descended upon the Grounds yet?” A small crooked smile tugs at his scarred face with the question, recalling the conversation of frustration over heading back to the shithole that was the Hollowed Grounds. And while he waits, he pours himself a small glass of wine, before taking a bite from the ramphire steak, surprising himself with the taste of it. It obviously isn’t as good as Nate might have cooked once, but it’s better than anything else he’s ever managed to make himself.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?
am i a villain or a saint?
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
