better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low
“Gods, if that isn’t the truth.” Sunjata murmurs, huffing another soft laugh before settling, his smile twisting more gentle despite the scar that splits his cheek. “That is what matters.” He agrees, drawing silent aside from his tender words so he can wipe away her tears, offer up his honesty, his side of the attuned bond, letting it soothe him like how the attuned ring that had sat on Nate’s finger had allowed it for a time before he’d changed.
His steel gaze snaps back to her when she apologizes, and for a split moment he thinks that he would do anything for her — let bygones be bygones. They’d hurt each other enough in their younger, stupid days. Now all he has room for is niceties, comfort, too exhausted to want anything else. He’d gladly leave his reputation and fame behind if it granted him some semblance of freedom these days. But he can’t, stuck with it as he is — as she is, in a way too.
The hand in her hair clasps with her on, smiling softer toward her. “I have my moments.” They’re few and far between, never quite getting out what he wants to say, but is pleased to know this has hit the mark. “Maybe I was inspired from the books in my hoard.” His scarred eyebrow lifts toward her as he angles his head, the feathered dangling earrings there that Nate had gifted him drags along her forearm.
He squeezes her hand back and presses his cheek to her arm, nodding. “Better late than never, right?” He murmurs, his freehand snaking around her waist again to keep her close. “Nevermind the fact I am so tired of all the dramatics.” He jests again, though there’s honesty that lingers under his joke.
His steel gaze snaps back to her when she apologizes, and for a split moment he thinks that he would do anything for her — let bygones be bygones. They’d hurt each other enough in their younger, stupid days. Now all he has room for is niceties, comfort, too exhausted to want anything else. He’d gladly leave his reputation and fame behind if it granted him some semblance of freedom these days. But he can’t, stuck with it as he is — as she is, in a way too.
The hand in her hair clasps with her on, smiling softer toward her. “I have my moments.” They’re few and far between, never quite getting out what he wants to say, but is pleased to know this has hit the mark. “Maybe I was inspired from the books in my hoard.” His scarred eyebrow lifts toward her as he angles his head, the feathered dangling earrings there that Nate had gifted him drags along her forearm.
He squeezes her hand back and presses his cheek to her arm, nodding. “Better late than never, right?” He murmurs, his freehand snaking around her waist again to keep her close. “Nevermind the fact I am so tired of all the dramatics.” He jests again, though there’s honesty that lingers under his joke.
SUNJATA
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.
