Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead
Her laugh breaks free bright and full, despite how empty the rest of her currently feels. He fed it, brought that small part of her back to vitality, at least for the moment. "Yeah, you might have a point there." Sunburnt, hungry, thirsty, tired, a little pissed off, hungover with jungle fever—the perfect cocktail for making the best decisions.
She sighs wistfully, content to stew in silence and the discord of half-formed thoughts her gut lends a voice to. At his inquiry, rising gentle from her back, she tips an amber stare back at blue briefly. Might have held it longer, if not for needing to see where she put every footstep or risk catching her toe and tipping facedown into leaflitter. "Do dogs count?" she asks with an answer, a tease at her own empty and desolate state of affairs when compared with the living glow of his.
She drops it quickly though, the solemnity of it creeping in. "No." She's made peace with it. Kinda likes not having to deal with anyone at night, not unless she wants to. Doesn't usually let anyone stay over though, always cuts loose from the House of Midnight as soon as she's plugged up whatever emptiness set her to itching again. There's been a lot of noise, in the past, feels like keeping it silent and dull is all a way to make up for it. Maybe she's just too scared to try again, not that she'd admit it.
"Mom passed when I was younger...hard to remember her sometimes." Kind, but tough, is about what Colt recalls. "Dad, he raised me." She also didn't remember him much, before the grief touched him. She'd wondered if he'd been softer then, before sadness hardened all his edges and made him a bit difficult to get along with, or if he'd always been that sharp. Nothing so unkind, but nothing pliable, nothing easy to him. Colt never quite knew if she lived up to his expectations, never would now. "He taught me a lot, but he passed before..." Before she got married. How different might it have gone if he was still around? "Before I felt grown," she decides, because she'd just been a fool in her twenties honestly.
Colt freezes as light dances up ahead. She watches cautiously, taking a step back closer to him. The fire moves fast, and suddenly it's zipping right towards them. Colt braces, too quick for her to do anything else, but they drift and are gone. She lets out a loud breath, all the tension melting, too tired to stay wound up. "Looks like our luck finally turned," she says with a grin to him. The victory doesn't feel worth it anymore, but the relief of being done? That's enough to sing to her bones. "Let's get the fuck outta here."
[FIN]
She sighs wistfully, content to stew in silence and the discord of half-formed thoughts her gut lends a voice to. At his inquiry, rising gentle from her back, she tips an amber stare back at blue briefly. Might have held it longer, if not for needing to see where she put every footstep or risk catching her toe and tipping facedown into leaflitter. "Do dogs count?" she asks with an answer, a tease at her own empty and desolate state of affairs when compared with the living glow of his.
She drops it quickly though, the solemnity of it creeping in. "No." She's made peace with it. Kinda likes not having to deal with anyone at night, not unless she wants to. Doesn't usually let anyone stay over though, always cuts loose from the House of Midnight as soon as she's plugged up whatever emptiness set her to itching again. There's been a lot of noise, in the past, feels like keeping it silent and dull is all a way to make up for it. Maybe she's just too scared to try again, not that she'd admit it.
"Mom passed when I was younger...hard to remember her sometimes." Kind, but tough, is about what Colt recalls. "Dad, he raised me." She also didn't remember him much, before the grief touched him. She'd wondered if he'd been softer then, before sadness hardened all his edges and made him a bit difficult to get along with, or if he'd always been that sharp. Nothing so unkind, but nothing pliable, nothing easy to him. Colt never quite knew if she lived up to his expectations, never would now. "He taught me a lot, but he passed before..." Before she got married. How different might it have gone if he was still around? "Before I felt grown," she decides, because she'd just been a fool in her twenties honestly.
Colt freezes as light dances up ahead. She watches cautiously, taking a step back closer to him. The fire moves fast, and suddenly it's zipping right towards them. Colt braces, too quick for her to do anything else, but they drift and are gone. She lets out a loud breath, all the tension melting, too tired to stay wound up. "Looks like our luck finally turned," she says with a grin to him. The victory doesn't feel worth it anymore, but the relief of being done? That's enough to sing to her bones. "Let's get the fuck outta here."
[FIN]
Colt
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.
