Heart is buried six feet in the ground, gonna need a shovel now
She didn't make it all the way home yet. Close, but night's fallen, and it no longer offers the comfort it once did. Travel worn as she is, she knows she won't be sleeping much tonight. Aside from barricading herself in her bathroom, a thought she did briefly consider, she has too many windows to pretend she can't see the fields of stars out there.
So she's trudged her way here instead, too numb to mind the rowdy roar of a business thriving in it's finest hours of the day. The noise feels like a wave she steps under the break of once she opens the doors, only warranting the most mild pause in her mud-flecked boot before she continues her stride inside. She lets it fold over her, almost grateful for the buzz that gets added to her own mind. As for the state she's in, to her credit, she goes through the motions well enough of trying to kick off the grime, a habit by now for everyone around here, but most of what clings to her is layered on from multiple bouts of drying. The boots and jeans are long since filthy, and her shirt hangs in haggard fashion off a shoulder, the other side seemingly only held up un the weight of a strap from the small pack she's toting along.
With no hat to keep her hair in check, it rides up on either side of her face, wild from being run through by nervous hands over and over, a twig and a leaf hiding near the top where their addition went unnoticed. After seeing so much rain and drying again it's got a frizzy kind of volume that moves too much with her, the faintest curls coming in on the ends. It slides around her as she sinks against the counter, head tipping down as her arms prop themselves up on the edge, palms immediately fisting under her jaw. "I need a room," she lets out with a stuffy, uneven voice. She clears her throat, trying to make it more even. "A magic one," she tacks on, louder now. Tears stream quietly from each red, puffy eye. The tracks that run lines in various strokes across her cheeks suggest it's been like the weather, on and off, to such an extent she's openly ignoring the plain show of it, too tired to bother with caring who sees any more.
So she's trudged her way here instead, too numb to mind the rowdy roar of a business thriving in it's finest hours of the day. The noise feels like a wave she steps under the break of once she opens the doors, only warranting the most mild pause in her mud-flecked boot before she continues her stride inside. She lets it fold over her, almost grateful for the buzz that gets added to her own mind. As for the state she's in, to her credit, she goes through the motions well enough of trying to kick off the grime, a habit by now for everyone around here, but most of what clings to her is layered on from multiple bouts of drying. The boots and jeans are long since filthy, and her shirt hangs in haggard fashion off a shoulder, the other side seemingly only held up un the weight of a strap from the small pack she's toting along.
With no hat to keep her hair in check, it rides up on either side of her face, wild from being run through by nervous hands over and over, a twig and a leaf hiding near the top where their addition went unnoticed. After seeing so much rain and drying again it's got a frizzy kind of volume that moves too much with her, the faintest curls coming in on the ends. It slides around her as she sinks against the counter, head tipping down as her arms prop themselves up on the edge, palms immediately fisting under her jaw. "I need a room," she lets out with a stuffy, uneven voice. She clears her throat, trying to make it more even. "A magic one," she tacks on, louder now. Tears stream quietly from each red, puffy eye. The tracks that run lines in various strokes across her cheeks suggest it's been like the weather, on and off, to such an extent she's openly ignoring the plain show of it, too tired to bother with caring who sees any more.
Colt
Maybe one day I'll get back the rhythm in my chest
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.
