last couple of months kinda been a disaster
He can’t help but to notice the streak of lightning that flits down Ashetta's arm before she brushes it away, delight flickering in the sea foam of his eyes as he brightens a touch. HIs grin a bit brighter even as he masks it somewhat as he looks her over, taking in the outfit. She perks up and Thorn’s smile twists into something easier, something more appreciative. As if the way she brightens has reflected in him enough to match her with the same energy.
Which is precisely what he’s good at. Mirroring. “Ooh, yes, can’t forget the teeth.” He beams at her enough to let his bright smile be seen, the sharpness of his own canines (muted compared to the Ancients out and about), but still sharper in comparison to someone who might grind their teeth.
He downs the rest of his glass, too, feeling the float and warmth linger in his bones as he shakes his head, his smile slipping a bit apologetic. “I’ve worn my fair share’ve masks, but nothin’ quite like this.” Leaning over to set the glass down, Thorn takes a moment to take in the party around them, the people slipping off into the shadows with others and new acquaintances being made, with no sign of the herald as far as he can tell. “Ya haven’t seen it yet, have ya?” He asks, leaning in a touch to let the low hum of his voice be better heard over the music filtering in.
Which is precisely what he’s good at. Mirroring. “Ooh, yes, can’t forget the teeth.” He beams at her enough to let his bright smile be seen, the sharpness of his own canines (muted compared to the Ancients out and about), but still sharper in comparison to someone who might grind their teeth.
He downs the rest of his glass, too, feeling the float and warmth linger in his bones as he shakes his head, his smile slipping a bit apologetic. “I’ve worn my fair share’ve masks, but nothin’ quite like this.” Leaning over to set the glass down, Thorn takes a moment to take in the party around them, the people slipping off into the shadows with others and new acquaintances being made, with no sign of the herald as far as he can tell. “Ya haven’t seen it yet, have ya?” He asks, leaning in a touch to let the low hum of his voice be better heard over the music filtering in.
Hawthorn
tell all my friends i'm asleep if they ask ya
