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?
Thal moves with a certainty that provides as much steadying force as solid ground. The weight of any decision is one Colt happily crawls out from beneath, preferring to have Thal shoulder it so she's got more room to breathe, just a little longer anyway. It's not the kindness of it, it's the confidence, which brings far more comfort than any fussing would have. Though the quick assessment of the Ancient's hands elicits a hiss where they pass over regions that are damaged, pain snarling up too sudden or strong and forcing itself past Colt's teeth, which she's cinched up behind tight lips. Her own gaze follows the pattern of ruin against her skin, eyes granting shape to the feeling, worsening it in some points for the view, as if the mystery of it all had kept it a little more dull.
It's not just the curt commands or the unwavering sweep of Thal's hands, it's the way she doesn't bow to the apology, that's she's got enough backbone to hold up against it. Sorry doesn't undo anything, and it certainly doesn't make them friends, but for what it's worth, Colt had not wanted Peach dead. Colt can own up to her fuck ups, usually. Gods know she's had the practice, although it's not always easy to admit to, but this one is a snap decision she made to survive and she won't apologize for pulling that trigger ultimately.
The less than kind evaluation of Vesper would have rippled through Colt heavier if it wasn't colliding with the tide of agony at having her boot removed. Her head jerks back, a strangled groan rasping free as her nearest hand clutches at Thalassa's offending arm in instinctual defiance of such continued hurt. She sucks in a breath though, gritting through it as the leather tugs and bites against the swelling, finally giving up her foot with a throb that rolls through her entire body. "Fucking hell," she snaps out, copper gaze dark as it flashes towards the view of her ruined limb.
"Yeah," she mutters, of the condition and the healing, well acquainted with the fountain from her last visit here. "Looks like you could use it too," she mutters, glancing at the blood evident on the woman's side. "Although you look better than last time I saw you." Her lips twist a bit at that, testament to what a shit time Thal had that night. "Do I get your name now, or you like going by Peach?"
She sits a moment with the knowledge of having to get up. She's gathering the strength to do it, knowing it's gonna fucking hurt. "Horse has all my shit on it," she sighs, long and tired, offering some for of explanation and plan. "Can't have gone too far with the state she was in. If you help me collect her, could help us make it back to town. I'll even buy you a round or two of drinks." Maybe the best apology she can actually provide.
It's not just the curt commands or the unwavering sweep of Thal's hands, it's the way she doesn't bow to the apology, that's she's got enough backbone to hold up against it. Sorry doesn't undo anything, and it certainly doesn't make them friends, but for what it's worth, Colt had not wanted Peach dead. Colt can own up to her fuck ups, usually. Gods know she's had the practice, although it's not always easy to admit to, but this one is a snap decision she made to survive and she won't apologize for pulling that trigger ultimately.
The less than kind evaluation of Vesper would have rippled through Colt heavier if it wasn't colliding with the tide of agony at having her boot removed. Her head jerks back, a strangled groan rasping free as her nearest hand clutches at Thalassa's offending arm in instinctual defiance of such continued hurt. She sucks in a breath though, gritting through it as the leather tugs and bites against the swelling, finally giving up her foot with a throb that rolls through her entire body. "Fucking hell," she snaps out, copper gaze dark as it flashes towards the view of her ruined limb.
"Yeah," she mutters, of the condition and the healing, well acquainted with the fountain from her last visit here. "Looks like you could use it too," she mutters, glancing at the blood evident on the woman's side. "Although you look better than last time I saw you." Her lips twist a bit at that, testament to what a shit time Thal had that night. "Do I get your name now, or you like going by Peach?"
She sits a moment with the knowledge of having to get up. She's gathering the strength to do it, knowing it's gonna fucking hurt. "Horse has all my shit on it," she sighs, long and tired, offering some for of explanation and plan. "Can't have gone too far with the state she was in. If you help me collect her, could help us make it back to town. I'll even buy you a round or two of drinks." Maybe the best apology she can actually provide.
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.
