Thalassa
She raises her hand in a conceding gesture, assuming it must have felt like more times with how easy it was to knock the woman to the ground. It's a comment she'll keep to herself, even if the cocky grin says more than enough. At least Colt finds a hint of humor in the situation - if her hidden smirk is anything to go by. The same one that vanishes faster than she can dart.
Thal watches the rancher closely, the vacuum of emotion, the way she reaches desperately for the shot glasses, the bitterness lacing her tone. It all tells a story that she's more than familiar with, one she has tried to rewrite more than a few times. Perhaps she should feel proud of the role she plays in it all, but truth would have it that she's not as cruel as she lets on, and heartbreak is the second worst thing she could imagine doing to a person.
Swinging her head away from the sight, she latches onto the drinks that slide across the bar top. Unflinching in the face of fire, she swallows it down, smoke and a flicker of flames curling around her lips like a banking cigarette. Her eyes finally slide back to Colt, all trace of humor sliding to the pit of her stomach along with the burn of alcohol. "Sounds like it was a small price to pay in the long run." Because it looks to Thal like the chaos was exactly what Colt had needed - a blessing in disguise to reveal the truth about Vesper. The woman should consider herself grateful she was able see the truth before something truly catastrophic had occurred, a moment where death and suffering might have been on the line rather than lips and playful fun. Thal wishes she'd had the same.
Locking eyes with the bartender, she raises two fingers, assuming the tab of shots with a harmonic hum that joins the bats. "This one's on me." It's not a claim of blame or guilt for the kiss that Colt had initiated, but an admittance of understanding for being caught in the aftermath of emotions.
*
Thal watches the rancher closely, the vacuum of emotion, the way she reaches desperately for the shot glasses, the bitterness lacing her tone. It all tells a story that she's more than familiar with, one she has tried to rewrite more than a few times. Perhaps she should feel proud of the role she plays in it all, but truth would have it that she's not as cruel as she lets on, and heartbreak is the second worst thing she could imagine doing to a person.
Swinging her head away from the sight, she latches onto the drinks that slide across the bar top. Unflinching in the face of fire, she swallows it down, smoke and a flicker of flames curling around her lips like a banking cigarette. Her eyes finally slide back to Colt, all trace of humor sliding to the pit of her stomach along with the burn of alcohol. "Sounds like it was a small price to pay in the long run." Because it looks to Thal like the chaos was exactly what Colt had needed - a blessing in disguise to reveal the truth about Vesper. The woman should consider herself grateful she was able see the truth before something truly catastrophic had occurred, a moment where death and suffering might have been on the line rather than lips and playful fun. Thal wishes she'd had the same.
Locking eyes with the bartender, she raises two fingers, assuming the tab of shots with a harmonic hum that joins the bats. "This one's on me." It's not a claim of blame or guilt for the kiss that Colt had initiated, but an admittance of understanding for being caught in the aftermath of emotions.
*
Never been the type to
Let someone see right through
Let someone see right through
