COLT
I had a vision last night
Horses on the granite plains
That sound of freedom stampeding
Why can't I feel the same?
Horses on the granite plains
That sound of freedom stampeding
Why can't I feel the same?
Colt's used to shit going sideways. She's had to think fast on many an occasion to free some panicking animal or guide some mess of a man. She's had to hang on and evacuate fast plenty of times before too, ducking through fences or clambering over them with only a hair's length keeping her safe. However many times she's done all of that though, it doesn't lessen the blow of being caught suddenly in a fucked situation any less—not when the marsh had abruptly frozen her before a giant, hungry toad, and not now when her horse had flipped with fangs nearby ready to devour. It's the being stuck that does it, when all her careful exit plans have suddenly been snuffed out and she's left in the thick of what she knows isn't good, but doesn't feel she has many options left. So the shock of making it through, as much as the physical toll of the injury, lingers on her now with an uneasy tremble.
She'd working her breath through her teeth and her nose in a measured pattern to regain some control of it back as she eases her legs straight, the tension gradually unwinding from the depths of her bones. Her fingers work from her thigh down, exploring the hurt as though it's absent from her. In a way, it still is, hidden by parts of her that didn't want her distracted. At Thalassa's approach, she glances up, head tilting back with the effort to see her from the ground.
She doesn't pretend to be better than she is—not really a fucking point, it's pretty clear it ain't great. Instead she does as told, listening something easy to do right now, nice and simple when everything is a little too hazy and hard otherwise. It's her left ankle, hidden in her boot, but twisted and swollen, and a mattering of bruises up that some leg that haven't made a visible appearance yet. She licks her lips as she shifts it, the line of fire that moves up it causing one eye to narrow in quiet protest.
"Sorry," she murmurs, lower lip caught in a roll of her teeth with a roil of nervousness that comes behind that apology. She exhales steadily, gaze flicking from the woman to the jungle. "I didn't realize you were the other animal, I almost had him kill you." There's a weird sound that comes after that—a laugh, she realizes. Not that anything's very funny, but it's easier to laugh right now than to cry or to scream, and apparently one of those three has to happen when death's on the table. "He realized though, that's what he was tryin' to say before he left, why I'm guessin' you're still breathing." The words come out soft, voice growing weak as she travels away from here and into memory, finding details she didn't know she had because she hadn't been focusing on it when it happened. She glances back towards Thalassa, the weight of what had almost come to pass not lost on her, and her lips thin into something grave.
She'd working her breath through her teeth and her nose in a measured pattern to regain some control of it back as she eases her legs straight, the tension gradually unwinding from the depths of her bones. Her fingers work from her thigh down, exploring the hurt as though it's absent from her. In a way, it still is, hidden by parts of her that didn't want her distracted. At Thalassa's approach, she glances up, head tilting back with the effort to see her from the ground.
She doesn't pretend to be better than she is—not really a fucking point, it's pretty clear it ain't great. Instead she does as told, listening something easy to do right now, nice and simple when everything is a little too hazy and hard otherwise. It's her left ankle, hidden in her boot, but twisted and swollen, and a mattering of bruises up that some leg that haven't made a visible appearance yet. She licks her lips as she shifts it, the line of fire that moves up it causing one eye to narrow in quiet protest.
"Sorry," she murmurs, lower lip caught in a roll of her teeth with a roil of nervousness that comes behind that apology. She exhales steadily, gaze flicking from the woman to the jungle. "I didn't realize you were the other animal, I almost had him kill you." There's a weird sound that comes after that—a laugh, she realizes. Not that anything's very funny, but it's easier to laugh right now than to cry or to scream, and apparently one of those three has to happen when death's on the table. "He realized though, that's what he was tryin' to say before he left, why I'm guessin' you're still breathing." The words come out soft, voice growing weak as she travels away from here and into memory, finding details she didn't know she had because she hadn't been focusing on it when it happened. She glances back towards Thalassa, the weight of what had almost come to pass not lost on her, and her lips thin into something grave.
I've been sipping on a poison
Even on the days I taste it
Run into the same wall
All because I just can't face it
Even on the days I taste it
Run into the same wall
All because I just can't face it
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.
