Marcus
Turn the rich into wine as you walk on the mean
Marcus didn't notice what was happening until it was pointed out to him. He was so focused on the task at hand, and thought he was doing a great job, that until he lifted his cerulean eyes as others spoke he had no idea that as he scraped away at the memory mud, it seemed to surround him and form around him, like a slow tide deciding he was shoreline. He turned in a quick circle, just as some of the mud sploshed up towards him.
“Agh!” Marcus exclaimed, confusion and frustration running up his spine. At Iskra’s offer, his eyes flicked to the axe and then back up, a wry lift to his brow. “I’d really prefer to keep both legs the same shape, if we can manage it.” he said, trying to push back against the mud and the frustration within himself all at once, as though both were intent on swallowing him whole.
“Agh!” Marcus exclaimed, confusion and frustration running up his spine. At Iskra’s offer, his eyes flicked to the axe and then back up, a wry lift to his brow. “I’d really prefer to keep both legs the same shape, if we can manage it.” he said, trying to push back against the mud and the frustration within himself all at once, as though both were intent on swallowing him whole.
