Colt
Her foot manages to slide out from the knotted mess with careful angling and shifting. It's only a part of her free, but the victorious surge of it is enough to give her some more breath back, and some new leverage to work on the rest. She stomps down on the overgrown garden by her other foot, heel scraping along the edge of her pantleg to try and peel it away, to crush it into something weak enough to snap. It's then that his answer drifts from out of sight, and it's an immediate relief, despite the fact he sounds as worn out as she feels. All the strain she had on the verdant ties softens as she sags against them instead, exhaling a quiet thanks into the maddening brush. She takes a moment to regain her strength, like it's work to pull it out of the slog its sunken into, something thicker than heat and travel.
His whistle cuts the air and she tilts her head back up, ignoring the way her thoughts slosh with the motion, like it's always been a snowglobe up there. She laughs at his remark, the sound thin and broken, too weak to fully embrace the humor. "Yeah, just a bit," she admits with a half-smile, amber eyes glancing askew at his own bedraggled state. "You look like you pissed off a tailor." Smiling hurt. Probably didn't end up on the ground in any graceful or soft manner.
Hold still. I got you.
Likely the echo of whatever toxin remains is what sends a flutter up her chest, not the steady way he threads into the weeds with her, not the way that eventide of his winds around her with all the same shape of the vines but none of its stifling intent. She sighs as he begins to saw her out of it, "thanks." There's too much to that word for it to properly carry it all.
"Can't wait to get the fuck out of here."
His whistle cuts the air and she tilts her head back up, ignoring the way her thoughts slosh with the motion, like it's always been a snowglobe up there. She laughs at his remark, the sound thin and broken, too weak to fully embrace the humor. "Yeah, just a bit," she admits with a half-smile, amber eyes glancing askew at his own bedraggled state. "You look like you pissed off a tailor." Smiling hurt. Probably didn't end up on the ground in any graceful or soft manner.
Hold still. I got you.
Likely the echo of whatever toxin remains is what sends a flutter up her chest, not the steady way he threads into the weeds with her, not the way that eventide of his winds around her with all the same shape of the vines but none of its stifling intent. She sighs as he begins to saw her out of it, "thanks." There's too much to that word for it to properly carry it all.
"Can't wait to get the fuck out of here."
I ain't gonna be that easy to leave
I'm gonna make you miss me
I'm gonna make you miss me
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
