Koa
The work is endless. Even after a quiet LongNight, cleanup needs be done, and the storms have done nothing but slow things down as they snap and snarl in Stormbreak's skies. At least for now they seem to be lingering off the northern face, making it a perfect day to spend in the Celestine.
And after a morning of enclosure repairs, Koa and Pip are tired. The young man's arms are a mess of dirt and sweat, his uniform coat long since abandoned in favor of the tank-top underneath. Pip's fur is a mess of brambles and oddly enough feathers, which the dragoon doesn't want to question too hard. A wool cap has kept Koa's hair in place, but he pulls it off as he trudges down a side path, using it to wipe his brow. According to Lena there's a small flock of Ningoes who need some work done on their pen.
So it is that Koa passes by where Sohalia sits. It isn't the same path, but rather one over, that the young Dragoon is on. As he reaches the point across from her he stops, brow furrowing, copper gaze sweeping up and then over his shoulder, opposite of where she sits. He makes a show of removing his pack and fumbling inside, evidently searching for something that he's struggling to find. Maybe he doesn't see her.
Or maybe this is a play, a way to let her take the lead on whether or not they talk.
And after a morning of enclosure repairs, Koa and Pip are tired. The young man's arms are a mess of dirt and sweat, his uniform coat long since abandoned in favor of the tank-top underneath. Pip's fur is a mess of brambles and oddly enough feathers, which the dragoon doesn't want to question too hard. A wool cap has kept Koa's hair in place, but he pulls it off as he trudges down a side path, using it to wipe his brow. According to Lena there's a small flock of Ningoes who need some work done on their pen.
So it is that Koa passes by where Sohalia sits. It isn't the same path, but rather one over, that the young Dragoon is on. As he reaches the point across from her he stops, brow furrowing, copper gaze sweeping up and then over his shoulder, opposite of where she sits. He makes a show of removing his pack and fumbling inside, evidently searching for something that he's struggling to find. Maybe he doesn't see her.
Or maybe this is a play, a way to let her take the lead on whether or not they talk.
i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away
