It's a real life boogie and a real life hoedown
Her grin is absolutely full of delight at Sunjata's response, a laugh skipping free, warm with several bouts of liquor and a cloud she's adamant about shrugging off. Taking his hand and threading through the crowd to the floor where he guides them, she slips into the easy embrace of the music and the sway of bodies. "Let's see if you dance as well as you fly," she teases, though she'll match his rhythm and not surprise him with any exceptional flourishes. It's supposed to be fun for the both of them, and unlike with Thorn she has no intention of teaching anything tonight, she's aiming to forget a little bit.
Between songs she presses into his chest for a moment, trying to catch a breath. For once he doesn't smell like peppermint, he smells like home. Like the wildflowers that bloom outside her bedroom window, and the jasmine and the sage around her porch, the lemon zest from the tree in the back, chocolate chip cookies fresh out of her oven, and alfalfa and the bit of dust from walking through the barn. It's as if every scent tugs her through another room she loves, never jumbled or too much, just home in all its different ways. She smiles against him, the comfort of it tucking in gently around the sting of what had just been raw. "This cologne is your best one yet," she sighs against him, a touch of longing to it.
Maybe she ought to call it a night, check in on Thorn and make sure he's set, then head back. There's work to be done tomorrow, after all, no sense in staying out until the will-o-wisps wink out.
Between songs she presses into his chest for a moment, trying to catch a breath. For once he doesn't smell like peppermint, he smells like home. Like the wildflowers that bloom outside her bedroom window, and the jasmine and the sage around her porch, the lemon zest from the tree in the back, chocolate chip cookies fresh out of her oven, and alfalfa and the bit of dust from walking through the barn. It's as if every scent tugs her through another room she loves, never jumbled or too much, just home in all its different ways. She smiles against him, the comfort of it tucking in gently around the sting of what had just been raw. "This cologne is your best one yet," she sighs against him, a touch of longing to it.
Maybe she ought to call it a night, check in on Thorn and make sure he's set, then head back. There's work to be done tomorrow, after all, no sense in staying out until the will-o-wisps wink out.
Colt
Don't be a bitch, come take it to the floor now
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.
