COLT
We can love just like rain
One drop too much and we'll drown
Wishin' I would be enough, 'cause I don't wanna lose
One drop too much and we'll drown
Wishin' I would be enough, 'cause I don't wanna lose
She shifts in her saddle as she glances at the Ark from the dock, now a more permanent fixture of the Castaway Exchange than last time she'd been aboard. She already knew that though, as the nine surviving stick horses on board are testament to. It's who's aboard it now that's got her curiosity lifting again.
The parcel returned to her with the scrawled tip of a change of address is peeking out of a saddle bag. She almost left it behind—went in and out of her house twice, spinning on her heel and tripping over dogs working too hard to be shadows. In the end she grabbed it, and she had hoped by the time she rode here she'd have made up her mind. It is, unfortunately, still torn on the decision to drop the package off or keep it tucked away like a memory never born. She figures if he's recently moved and bunking up on his father's ship, that the last thing he needs is a trinket to deal with, especially when this might not stay his room. On the other hand, she's already here with it, and it's small, so she could leave it and he could keep it or chuck it—no different than if it had made it to him successfully to start with.
The longer she has it in her possession though the more silly the whole idea seems. It had been much more survivable when buying it on impulse and sending it off, out of her hands—until it came back. Now the weight of it hangs, like maybe fate is suggesting she reconsider.
The parcel returned to her with the scrawled tip of a change of address is peeking out of a saddle bag. She almost left it behind—went in and out of her house twice, spinning on her heel and tripping over dogs working too hard to be shadows. In the end she grabbed it, and she had hoped by the time she rode here she'd have made up her mind. It is, unfortunately, still torn on the decision to drop the package off or keep it tucked away like a memory never born. She figures if he's recently moved and bunking up on his father's ship, that the last thing he needs is a trinket to deal with, especially when this might not stay his room. On the other hand, she's already here with it, and it's small, so she could leave it and he could keep it or chuck it—no different than if it had made it to him successfully to start with.
The longer she has it in her possession though the more silly the whole idea seems. It had been much more survivable when buying it on impulse and sending it off, out of her hands—until it came back. Now the weight of it hangs, like maybe fate is suggesting she reconsider.
Nothing makes sense when you're gone, I need you around
I will love you like the stars love to shoot
And shadows love the moon
I will love you like the stars love to shoot
And shadows love the moon
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.
