the sea speaks a little more honestly
The storm clouds roll in, thunder on the horizon that begins to dissipate the longer the afternoon wanes on. It’s about sunset when the drizzle finally settles into something more even, a gentle pattering across metal surfaces, along roofs of buildings nearby, casting them in a dim almost green glow. And here, the Flood makes the trek toward Colt’s ranch, news on the tip of his tongue to hopefully help her out.
The rodeo was rapidly approaching, and with it came the fact he’d get more work cut out for him in terms of being a pegasus, but that’s not what he’s here for. He’s drenched by the time he gets to her door, saying a soft little hello in his language to the canines that guard it, before he’s knocking against the screen door and leaning against the beam of her porch, dripping wet and soaked, but looking for the life of him like he doesn’t care.
It’s not too warm out here, but it isn’t too cold. And could he really be called the Flood if he had an aversion to water? So he drips, dark curls clinging to his freckled cheeks, one tattooed arm crossed over his lightning scarred one, shirt unbuttoned at the top and short sleeved but sticking to him as he starts to slowly drip dry on the wood of her porch.
The rodeo was rapidly approaching, and with it came the fact he’d get more work cut out for him in terms of being a pegasus, but that’s not what he’s here for. He’s drenched by the time he gets to her door, saying a soft little hello in his language to the canines that guard it, before he’s knocking against the screen door and leaning against the beam of her porch, dripping wet and soaked, but looking for the life of him like he doesn’t care.
It’s not too warm out here, but it isn’t too cold. And could he really be called the Flood if he had an aversion to water? So he drips, dark curls clinging to his freckled cheeks, one tattooed arm crossed over his lightning scarred one, shirt unbuttoned at the top and short sleeved but sticking to him as he starts to slowly drip dry on the wood of her porch.
to those who are willing to drown
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.
