The moon she is lurking, the clock it stopped working
At a quarter past three
At a quarter past three
Mud, murk, and mire stretch as far as the eye can see, but Callum strolls through it all with the air of someone entirely unbothered by the muck and grime. It's only the tightness around his eyes and the thin line of his mouth that betrays his disgust - and even that is invisible except to those who know him well. He's dressed for the weather in calf-high boots and dark pants that he doesn't mind getting dirty. Somehow, even his shirt has got splotches of mud on it, though he couldn't tell you how they got there.
He runs a hand through his windswept hair, resigned to the fact that he's going to have to get used to being dirty this season. Just as he's about to go on his merry way, a loud exclamation claims his attention, and he turns with a wary frown towards a blonde young woman with a scowl on her face. She's dressed in a bright yellow dress that seems to be utterly bedazzled and not at all right for the setting in which they've found themselves. At least she had the foresight to wear rain boots - for all the good it's done her. Callum can see the mud crawling up the hem of her dress from here.
Taking pity on the girl, the mercenary strolls forward, a pleasant - if mischievous - expression on his face. "You know," he says as he nears the young woman, "It'll play fetch with you if you ask it nicely. Bet you could coax it off your dress if you find the right bribe."
He runs a hand through his windswept hair, resigned to the fact that he's going to have to get used to being dirty this season. Just as he's about to go on his merry way, a loud exclamation claims his attention, and he turns with a wary frown towards a blonde young woman with a scowl on her face. She's dressed in a bright yellow dress that seems to be utterly bedazzled and not at all right for the setting in which they've found themselves. At least she had the foresight to wear rain boots - for all the good it's done her. Callum can see the mud crawling up the hem of her dress from here.
Taking pity on the girl, the mercenary strolls forward, a pleasant - if mischievous - expression on his face. "You know," he says as he nears the young woman, "It'll play fetch with you if you ask it nicely. Bet you could coax it off your dress if you find the right bribe."
There's something dancing here in the shadows
And I wish it were us
And I wish it were us
Callum
