Wrapping my ribs in the clothes that you left, call that hanging on by a thread
His approach is something she marks well before he's in earshot. This place is mostly dotted with residential homes so the road's not too busy, not with the time of day putting most people at work elsewhere, and not with the threat of more rain keeping everyone warmly tucked indoors. Her head tilts, watching him get closer with the lazy interest of someone needing distraction, therefore able to find it in what is ordinarily mundane. Although once she starts to recognize him she becomes more curious, even expectant. Her letter had left things rather open-ended for when he could come by and taste test some ribs, and his response had suggested he'd been so busy ruling a city that spelling isn't something he could bother with any longer, yet here he is.
No longer alone, she seals away the last bit of her grief with all the expertise of someone used to sweeping dust under rugs and calling it clean. A practiced smile reaches out, shiny as an emerald city promise, though it costs her something to hoist it up when everything behind it is so hollow. A price she'll pay later, when he's gone and she goes to fold it away, only to find it takes more than familiar creases to manage it. Something will tear then, stripping down further than surface level, same as the painted-on kiss she earned here that's since peeled back and exposed the rot beneath. For now though, the warm tilt of her lips fits into spaces with enough habitual ease that it feels like it could fool her too if she wears it long enough, and about now feeling fooled seems a better bet than keeping smart.
"Zaaaavien!" she trills brightly, smoke puffing out both ends of her cheeks as the grin yanks them up. "Fancy seeing you 'round these parts darlin', I hope you brought your appetite." She lifts up a foot, leaning down to put out the cigarette on the toe of her boot, tucking it in her back pocket with a loud smack of her lips to his question as she moves. "A complete mess," she informs him, and whether he meant her or the road, the answer is much the same. She rather figures he means the situation at hand, the muddy one specifically, plain as it is to see. With the amber shine of her gaze lifting back to him, mischief like a constant streak in the corner, her lips tilt into something crooked. "Why, how incredibly considerate of you, I do just so happen to be needing some helpful man in my life." Luckily for her, the golden boy doesn't need any arm twisting, he just offers 'em up easy, and she has no qualms taking advantage of something being given. Whether he only said it to be nice or not, he's let the cat out of the bag already and that sucker's run off.
Nodding her chin towards the supplies, "gotta even and dry this patch of road, especially before the next rainfall. Had a crew lined up, but guess they got better things to do than help ensure old women don't go breaking their hips. You don't though, looks like, so I say we make quick work and get you that meal you're due." She's careful not to trust the fence enough to push off it as she gets back onto her own balance, reaching for a rake to smooth the road, the shovel remaining for him to help carve ir out. She tosses the handle from one hand to the other before staking a claim over a patch of muddy ground, turning the tool over so the flat part is down and the teeth smile up. She pushes and pulls with some effort, leveling the lumpier parts of the ground like this is nothing more than a batch of brownies needing to cook even in the oven. "So what brings you out to this neck of the woods city boy?"
No longer alone, she seals away the last bit of her grief with all the expertise of someone used to sweeping dust under rugs and calling it clean. A practiced smile reaches out, shiny as an emerald city promise, though it costs her something to hoist it up when everything behind it is so hollow. A price she'll pay later, when he's gone and she goes to fold it away, only to find it takes more than familiar creases to manage it. Something will tear then, stripping down further than surface level, same as the painted-on kiss she earned here that's since peeled back and exposed the rot beneath. For now though, the warm tilt of her lips fits into spaces with enough habitual ease that it feels like it could fool her too if she wears it long enough, and about now feeling fooled seems a better bet than keeping smart.
"Zaaaavien!" she trills brightly, smoke puffing out both ends of her cheeks as the grin yanks them up. "Fancy seeing you 'round these parts darlin', I hope you brought your appetite." She lifts up a foot, leaning down to put out the cigarette on the toe of her boot, tucking it in her back pocket with a loud smack of her lips to his question as she moves. "A complete mess," she informs him, and whether he meant her or the road, the answer is much the same. She rather figures he means the situation at hand, the muddy one specifically, plain as it is to see. With the amber shine of her gaze lifting back to him, mischief like a constant streak in the corner, her lips tilt into something crooked. "Why, how incredibly considerate of you, I do just so happen to be needing some helpful man in my life." Luckily for her, the golden boy doesn't need any arm twisting, he just offers 'em up easy, and she has no qualms taking advantage of something being given. Whether he only said it to be nice or not, he's let the cat out of the bag already and that sucker's run off.
Nodding her chin towards the supplies, "gotta even and dry this patch of road, especially before the next rainfall. Had a crew lined up, but guess they got better things to do than help ensure old women don't go breaking their hips. You don't though, looks like, so I say we make quick work and get you that meal you're due." She's careful not to trust the fence enough to push off it as she gets back onto her own balance, reaching for a rake to smooth the road, the shovel remaining for him to help carve ir out. She tosses the handle from one hand to the other before staking a claim over a patch of muddy ground, turning the tool over so the flat part is down and the teeth smile up. She pushes and pulls with some effort, leveling the lumpier parts of the ground like this is nothing more than a batch of brownies needing to cook even in the oven. "So what brings you out to this neck of the woods city boy?"
Colt
My heart is a hoarder, collecting things she shouldn't keep
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.
