Colt
The devil's always on my heels, but I keep him on his toes
It might be the highway, and it might be these songs
It might be the whiskey or the smoke inside these lungs
It might be the highway, and it might be these songs
It might be the whiskey or the smoke inside these lungs
The laughter is the exact response she’s expected on more than one occasion now. It’s enough of a sudden and encompassing sound that Colt joins in before long, more mania than humor on her end of it. ”Exactly,” Colt answers back, clicking into the side of her cheek as if a correct answer buzzer. ”Sounds fun, taming something like that, doesn’t it?” Nothing but sand and things that want to kill you, and Colt has privately adored it ever since.
She’d always thought it’d been her midnight stallion carting her through hell, power and grace built into every stride as they faced unknown danger for the sake of a little luck. A trip like that, how could it do anything but captivate her? It’d been the start of so many things for her, and despite the heat and the chafing and the miserable moments, she’d romanticized it all time and again.
Yet, with that horse run out of the stable, the shine of the desert hasn’t dulled for her. Might’ve gone different, with someone else. Better. Worse. Could be she’s still wearing rose-tinted glasses, trying to find something that resembles happy again and that’s as close as she can get, even if it’s just a mirage. These are thoughts that’ve made her circle the idea in her own mind ever since she stared at ashes.
Yet, she thinks if she cuts him out of it, and pulls away everything he’d lent to it. The bare root remains the same. The desert had been a sense of freedom, of accomplishment, of harsh beauty. It stood before her like a challenge, full of untapped potential. ”Everywhere is nothin’ until someone makes it somethin’” she shrugs, like the idea is a simple one. ”The ranch? It belonged to my folks. Made it mine, the ways I could when they passed and I took over.” Changing the name to Deadiron had been one such attempt, and it’d helped. ”I love that life, and I don’t regret it, but this is the first time I’ve felt like I’ve had a choice to do… anything.”
Maybe Colt’s not the best at seeing her options, like a horse that knows its route and routine and doesn’t cross over to the fields past the fence line. The gate’s wide open now though, and the world is calling to her in a way that makes her restless to answer. ”I like the idea of building something, and when I do, I want it to last. The sand won’t catch fire. Fact, might even be able to run a glass business. Although I’m thinking there’s a market out there for what the Suvahasi plants provide, once they get a bit tamed and cultivated.”
She’d always thought it’d been her midnight stallion carting her through hell, power and grace built into every stride as they faced unknown danger for the sake of a little luck. A trip like that, how could it do anything but captivate her? It’d been the start of so many things for her, and despite the heat and the chafing and the miserable moments, she’d romanticized it all time and again.
Yet, with that horse run out of the stable, the shine of the desert hasn’t dulled for her. Might’ve gone different, with someone else. Better. Worse. Could be she’s still wearing rose-tinted glasses, trying to find something that resembles happy again and that’s as close as she can get, even if it’s just a mirage. These are thoughts that’ve made her circle the idea in her own mind ever since she stared at ashes.
Yet, she thinks if she cuts him out of it, and pulls away everything he’d lent to it. The bare root remains the same. The desert had been a sense of freedom, of accomplishment, of harsh beauty. It stood before her like a challenge, full of untapped potential. ”Everywhere is nothin’ until someone makes it somethin’” she shrugs, like the idea is a simple one. ”The ranch? It belonged to my folks. Made it mine, the ways I could when they passed and I took over.” Changing the name to Deadiron had been one such attempt, and it’d helped. ”I love that life, and I don’t regret it, but this is the first time I’ve felt like I’ve had a choice to do… anything.”
Maybe Colt’s not the best at seeing her options, like a horse that knows its route and routine and doesn’t cross over to the fields past the fence line. The gate’s wide open now though, and the world is calling to her in a way that makes her restless to answer. ”I like the idea of building something, and when I do, I want it to last. The sand won’t catch fire. Fact, might even be able to run a glass business. Although I’m thinking there’s a market out there for what the Suvahasi plants provide, once they get a bit tamed and cultivated.”
Ain't no way around it, one day I'm gonna die
If something's gonna kill me
Might as well be what makes me feel alive
If something's gonna kill me
Might as well be what makes me feel alive
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.
