Ain't had time to miss you since you been gone, it's been nothing but neon
She's deeply grateful in times like this for men such as Remi Taliesin. Those who don't pry or wonder, but instead know how to settle into the work at hand and leave out the personal aspects of everything, letting the reality of what's on the surface guide it all. He hasn't said anything to set her teeth together, even his eyes have made quick work in assessing and avoid lingering, and there's a kindness in that inattention that does not escape her. She has always found him considerate and capable, both the Taliesins are really, and she's eternally glad that it's him who she's run into today.
There's a brief moment when he rises where she fumbles with the uncertainty if she's to follow or not. She leans forward slightly, but never unhooks her boots and sets out with the momentum, though she strains a bit and leans on the seat to watch him. He rustles through equipment with a knowing search, and quietly Colt's hands fold together in her lap and fingers fidget over nails. Admittedly, she doesn't know what her ask entails, and half expects he'll return with various strands of hairs like all the horse tails she'd chopped off that first night. When he instead sets down a painter's spread, her question is plain on her face. She glances from the spread to him, gaze locking briefly, and his explanation swiftly grants an approving smile. "The details make the craft," she agrees, softening a touch as he begins to work and the motions draw her attention entirely.
By the time he's complete, he has a fairly decent rendering of what her hair had once been. To see it on a page instead of a mirror is a new experience, not usually the subject for any art. This also existing as a sole entity floating amid paint and paper instead of with her makes it feel like something lost being remembered, a ghost of a different sort that he's summoned. "Mm," she says between pursed lips, a finger tapping there in thought before she reaches out and taps on a section of the drawing. "Here is darker than you show, because of all the time I wear hats. Otherwise, yes, that looks fantastic." There's a new sort of vibrancy back to her voice, the reality of what's being made becoming more clear, her hope not just something distant but here, cradled in his hands. Her fingers cup his arm as she leans back away from the desk and the page, brief before she pulls away. "I can't thank you enough for doing this."
There's a brief moment when he rises where she fumbles with the uncertainty if she's to follow or not. She leans forward slightly, but never unhooks her boots and sets out with the momentum, though she strains a bit and leans on the seat to watch him. He rustles through equipment with a knowing search, and quietly Colt's hands fold together in her lap and fingers fidget over nails. Admittedly, she doesn't know what her ask entails, and half expects he'll return with various strands of hairs like all the horse tails she'd chopped off that first night. When he instead sets down a painter's spread, her question is plain on her face. She glances from the spread to him, gaze locking briefly, and his explanation swiftly grants an approving smile. "The details make the craft," she agrees, softening a touch as he begins to work and the motions draw her attention entirely.
By the time he's complete, he has a fairly decent rendering of what her hair had once been. To see it on a page instead of a mirror is a new experience, not usually the subject for any art. This also existing as a sole entity floating amid paint and paper instead of with her makes it feel like something lost being remembered, a ghost of a different sort that he's summoned. "Mm," she says between pursed lips, a finger tapping there in thought before she reaches out and taps on a section of the drawing. "Here is darker than you show, because of all the time I wear hats. Otherwise, yes, that looks fantastic." There's a new sort of vibrancy back to her voice, the reality of what's being made becoming more clear, her hope not just something distant but here, cradled in his hands. Her fingers cup his arm as she leans back away from the desk and the page, brief before she pulls away. "I can't thank you enough for doing this."
Colt
Ain't been breaking down, I've been breaking in this heartbreak right
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.
