Noah
The crystals chimed faintly as he shifted his weight. His jaw feathered again, inwardly contemplating whether or not to just thumb the compass in his pocket and leave, but leaving now would mean carrying only questions back into the cold. He could feel the partial shift along the nape of his neck, a mix of white feathers and fur starting to prickle beneath his collar. He could feel the shifts within him, brushing and pushing and roaring at each other for a chance to be released.
He breathed out.
His eyes tracked the fallen petals at her feet. "Funny place to run into old debts." Noah murmured again through his tightened jaw, eyes lifting to hold her in his glacial stare, measuring. If you had asked Noah in his younger days if he were ont to keep a grudge he would have said no, but looking down now at her mischevious smile and the glint of her fangs brought a roiling from within him that would argue -- and win -- against the statement.
He breathed out.
His eyes tracked the fallen petals at her feet. "Funny place to run into old debts." Noah murmured again through his tightened jaw, eyes lifting to hold her in his glacial stare, measuring. If you had asked Noah in his younger days if he were ont to keep a grudge he would have said no, but looking down now at her mischevious smile and the glint of her fangs brought a roiling from within him that would argue -- and win -- against the statement.
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?
And detached as boats to the dock?
