COLT
Cowboys ain't easy to love
And they're harder to hold
And they're harder to hold
"Agreed," Colt mutters, but there's the edge of a smile, more than capable of laughing at herself, especially when she knows such gangly skills are on display. Maybe if this had been something she thought she should be better at, her mood would be more sour, but this, she expects to suck so she can embrace it a bit better. Mel is more merciful than all the deep ribbing she'd always received from her family and friends over the years when any visible failure had been spotted. She figured it helped thicken up her skin. That, and made her want to hide every fault line beneath the bite of her own words.
Her smile falters into a grimace as her jab only catches the whisper of fabric, and she's halfway through a nod of understanding at Mel's words when the more practiced swing drives in. Colt's staff stick fumbles in her hands as she struggles to position it as she means to, her efforts too grand, energy wasted with the wild arc that comes in too late to fully collide with the Honeybee's blow. She does make contact, maybe it helps, but it doesn't keep the solid thwap of the staff off her shoulder. It's enough force to make her step to the side, gaze flashing with hurt that comes out in a grunt as she withdraws her stick back towards her chest. "Yeah, I'd say that was more effective," she complains as she rubs a bit at her arm. At least it'd been her upper arm, not so painful as an area with less padding, or a joint. Still hurts like a bitch, and Colt has no intention of letting that happen again.
Snorting she steps towards Mel, stick drawn up like an axe she intends to swing down on on the top of Mel's shoulder, but Colt sweeps it around to her left suddenly, the bottom of her stick now becoming the head, aiming for the same spot on Mel that she just took.
3/4 Colt is hit in the shoulder and aims for Mel's shoulder
Her smile falters into a grimace as her jab only catches the whisper of fabric, and she's halfway through a nod of understanding at Mel's words when the more practiced swing drives in. Colt's staff stick fumbles in her hands as she struggles to position it as she means to, her efforts too grand, energy wasted with the wild arc that comes in too late to fully collide with the Honeybee's blow. She does make contact, maybe it helps, but it doesn't keep the solid thwap of the staff off her shoulder. It's enough force to make her step to the side, gaze flashing with hurt that comes out in a grunt as she withdraws her stick back towards her chest. "Yeah, I'd say that was more effective," she complains as she rubs a bit at her arm. At least it'd been her upper arm, not so painful as an area with less padding, or a joint. Still hurts like a bitch, and Colt has no intention of letting that happen again.
Snorting she steps towards Mel, stick drawn up like an axe she intends to swing down on on the top of Mel's shoulder, but Colt sweeps it around to her left suddenly, the bottom of her stick now becoming the head, aiming for the same spot on Mel that she just took.
3/4 Colt is hit in the shoulder and aims for Mel's shoulder
They'll never stay home
And they're always alone
And they're always alone
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.
