COLT
I used to shine bright like gold
Now I'm all indigo
My colors are darker and cold
Now I'm all indigo
My colors are darker and cold
She jockeys the tree limb with a lazy ease, legs dangling around either side, back pressed against the padding of the pack that keeps the otherwise rough trunk at bay. Her once 'nice' jeans and boots have since been mud-flecked and travel-worn, so a bit of grip on the thighs from some bark isn't a bother any longer; they're joining the work pile now. All of her loose draping jolts abruptly though when her lure of light snares something. She'd been expecting a bird to go for it, maybe a squirrel, potentially even a rabbit—not a godsdamned tide jaguar.
She has to steady herself with a sudden grip of her legs and a brace with her free hand. The light in her other hand swings extra wild while she recovers from the surprise, but she does recover, because it's bounding merrily after the little game of chase. She probably ought to be more worried about a predator a touch too close for comfort, but with it acting no better than an oversized barn cat, and feeling overly safe on her tree limb, she's happy to play into it. Besides, it's occupied, and fiercely adorable with every pounce and leaping twist or bound.
Holding back her laughter to just a breathy exhale and a growing smile, she keeps the buckle's light shifting over the Glade terrain. Maybe if she knew more about the Grounds she'd realize tide jaguars aren't naturally from here, or pay more attention to the tug of familiarity she feels. It's definitely beginning to tug harder, although it moves so fast and brush keeps snatching her certainty away as glances shift rapidly. It's just, absurd that it could be, "Vesper?"
The game cuts out as her hand falls limp with the realization. She leans down on the bough with the effort of her scrutiny, mouth ajar with disbelief. "VESPER!" she calls out again, louder now, an anxious prickle rising up her nape.
She has to steady herself with a sudden grip of her legs and a brace with her free hand. The light in her other hand swings extra wild while she recovers from the surprise, but she does recover, because it's bounding merrily after the little game of chase. She probably ought to be more worried about a predator a touch too close for comfort, but with it acting no better than an oversized barn cat, and feeling overly safe on her tree limb, she's happy to play into it. Besides, it's occupied, and fiercely adorable with every pounce and leaping twist or bound.
Holding back her laughter to just a breathy exhale and a growing smile, she keeps the buckle's light shifting over the Glade terrain. Maybe if she knew more about the Grounds she'd realize tide jaguars aren't naturally from here, or pay more attention to the tug of familiarity she feels. It's definitely beginning to tug harder, although it moves so fast and brush keeps snatching her certainty away as glances shift rapidly. It's just, absurd that it could be, "Vesper?"
The game cuts out as her hand falls limp with the realization. She leans down on the bough with the effort of her scrutiny, mouth ajar with disbelief. "VESPER!" she calls out again, louder now, an anxious prickle rising up her nape.
I gave up a piece of my heart
Then I turned to run
My head's in the clouds
But I don't feel close to the sun
Then I turned to run
My head's in the clouds
But I don't feel close to the sun
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.
