Heart is buried six feet in the ground, gonna need a shovel now
Girl cuts in on her with just enough disapproval to it that she grins, as if fully caught when she thought she’d been sneaky. Colt is usually well aware when she’s ridiculous or wrong, or at the very least, can reflect on it later and admit to it, if she’s of the mind to. Currently, she knows there’s a bit of madness here, but this feels like an appropriate response, all things considered. She had briefly thought of razing other buildings to the ground, so this is the image of a woman poised with constraint.
”Soh!” she greets, the words sliding with a loose, liquor warmth. Not slurring, not quite there, yet, but give her time. She blinks through the mist, then glances back around at the pool before her, toes wriggling against the surface of the water like fish skimming up for air. ”Eh, sittin’.” She looks down at the bottle in her hand next, and with a honey-slow smile, gives it a little shake before tilting it out towards Soh in offer. ”’Nd drinkin’.”
The cloud wyrm is just enough distracting movement to pull Colt’s gaze before the creature’s off and away, and the glassy focus of her gaze next lands on Soh. The name that Soh brandishes with such ease crystallizes the edges of Colt’s breath, because no, she hadn’t been tracing that particular wound, but the word may as well have been Sohalia’s hand grabbing onto a bruise and asking her if it hurt, despite the clearly yellow and green mottling there. ”Definitely not,” she snorts, the tone so rich with offense she could cough up a sword. ”I happen to have options when it comes to what I’m miserable about. Isn’t that lucky?” The smirk she tries to offer up dies before it reaches both sides of her face, and the half it does tilt into drops swiftly, the humor fading like she’s aware she doesn’t need it, or just lacks the strength to push it up right now.
Before she can offer a better explanation, she latches onto Soh’s offer, pulling her feet out quick enough to cause a mild splash. ”Don’t have to tell me twice,” she murmurs with a grateful smile, gathering her boots into the crook of her arm and rising with a grace that she does not deserve given the amount of empty glass in the tequila bottle that her other hand is still fisting as tight as a baby on a titty. Well, she thinks she’s graceful, but in actuality she looks like a newborn foal getting to its feet for the first time.
”Soh!” she greets, the words sliding with a loose, liquor warmth. Not slurring, not quite there, yet, but give her time. She blinks through the mist, then glances back around at the pool before her, toes wriggling against the surface of the water like fish skimming up for air. ”Eh, sittin’.” She looks down at the bottle in her hand next, and with a honey-slow smile, gives it a little shake before tilting it out towards Soh in offer. ”’Nd drinkin’.”
The cloud wyrm is just enough distracting movement to pull Colt’s gaze before the creature’s off and away, and the glassy focus of her gaze next lands on Soh. The name that Soh brandishes with such ease crystallizes the edges of Colt’s breath, because no, she hadn’t been tracing that particular wound, but the word may as well have been Sohalia’s hand grabbing onto a bruise and asking her if it hurt, despite the clearly yellow and green mottling there. ”Definitely not,” she snorts, the tone so rich with offense she could cough up a sword. ”I happen to have options when it comes to what I’m miserable about. Isn’t that lucky?” The smirk she tries to offer up dies before it reaches both sides of her face, and the half it does tilt into drops swiftly, the humor fading like she’s aware she doesn’t need it, or just lacks the strength to push it up right now.
Before she can offer a better explanation, she latches onto Soh’s offer, pulling her feet out quick enough to cause a mild splash. ”Don’t have to tell me twice,” she murmurs with a grateful smile, gathering her boots into the crook of her arm and rising with a grace that she does not deserve given the amount of empty glass in the tequila bottle that her other hand is still fisting as tight as a baby on a titty. Well, she thinks she’s graceful, but in actuality she looks like a newborn foal getting to its feet for the first time.
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.
