Oh fuck I've wandered away from civilization and now the Family has sent a dragon to finish me off.
That's what goes through Koa's mind as he watches Boreal descend, his nerves too frayed and brain too hazy to recognize the dragon. Oddly enough it isn't fear that grips the Dragoon at this notion; more an empty resignation, and sadness at how much he hasn't done. He should have been nicer to Sohalia. Should have taken better care of his dad. Should have told Flora he loved her.
Ah well. Too late now.
But the dragon doesn't murder him. In fact, as it lands upon the ground, Koa can't help feeling that its posturing is less harbinger of murder and more large dog anticipating pets. It even looks a lot like Boreal, which is strange. "Huh." Dropping his hands to his sides, the Dragoon takes an uncertain step froward, his brow furrowed into a frown. "Are you a trap? 'Cus you gotta tell me if you are. Rude to kill someone as a trap."
At some point he's knelt down, then sat, his legs crossed beneath him and his hands in his lap. (And maybe Boreal's head in his lap, too, depending on just how eager she is for those pets). That's the way Talyson will find him, perplexed and intoxicated, his knuckles bruised. "Oh, hey," Koa greets the courier bemusedly, belatedly looking up at the other man. "M....aybe?"
Oh, Koa, you sweet idiot humbo. You ain't doin' so good.
That's what goes through Koa's mind as he watches Boreal descend, his nerves too frayed and brain too hazy to recognize the dragon. Oddly enough it isn't fear that grips the Dragoon at this notion; more an empty resignation, and sadness at how much he hasn't done. He should have been nicer to Sohalia. Should have taken better care of his dad. Should have told Flora he loved her.
Ah well. Too late now.
But the dragon doesn't murder him. In fact, as it lands upon the ground, Koa can't help feeling that its posturing is less harbinger of murder and more large dog anticipating pets. It even looks a lot like Boreal, which is strange. "Huh." Dropping his hands to his sides, the Dragoon takes an uncertain step froward, his brow furrowed into a frown. "Are you a trap? 'Cus you gotta tell me if you are. Rude to kill someone as a trap."
At some point he's knelt down, then sat, his legs crossed beneath him and his hands in his lap. (And maybe Boreal's head in his lap, too, depending on just how eager she is for those pets). That's the way Talyson will find him, perplexed and intoxicated, his knuckles bruised. "Oh, hey," Koa greets the courier bemusedly, belatedly looking up at the other man. "M....aybe?"
Oh, Koa, you sweet idiot humbo. You ain't doin' so good.
