Colt
I know it's a drag, I know it's a grind
I know that a dollar ain't worth a dime
I know you get tired, I know you get down
I know you get sick of this soul-sucking town
I know that a dollar ain't worth a dime
I know you get tired, I know you get down
I know you get sick of this soul-sucking town
She supposes if she’s going to sit anywhere dark for long, he’s a good one to sit beside. A reminder that the night ends, and always able to angle things back to dawn. She’s partial to the dark, but sometimes she can get lost in it, especially when she’s taken to avoiding the stars.
A slow, but noticeable nod answers his first question, lips pursing in the subtle line of difficult thought. Things to say, but the way to say them is so fluid it’s hard to find the way to maneuver them. ”Yeah,” she says at last as he gently wonders, and her response is for all the above. ”Lost everything to the fire,” she sighs, spine straightening a bit in response, as if just aware of how she’s begun to sag again and meaning to correct it.
She brushes off the bread crumbs on her pants. ”Considered rebuilding…” she trails off, the evidence of how gunshy she is plain. ”Not giving up,” she clarifies, meeting his gaze with a newfound steadiness. ”Just, trying my luck a different way. Going to see if I can’t wrangle Hak Etme into somewhere worth living, actually.” She simpers at that, fully aware how it sounds every time she says it. It’s only gotten funnier, not easier.
Some wind shifts, and her hair flutters against the corner of her mouth. She tugs it away with a finger and a shrug. ”I mean, even now, it’s like I can’t escape it still. I smell it burning all over again.” Which hollows her out with a grief she didn’t mean to bring here, had thought she’d buried. There’s no denying the acrid tang of something burnt for anything else though, and her upper lip peels back in the faintest crinkle of distaste.
Her gaze swings into the distance, like she expects to see it blazing, not that she ever had. Showed up too late. The smoke though, that’s curling again, and for a moment she stiffens in horror. She hadn’t actually expected to visualize the ruin, but the pairing of the sight and the smell are too blatant. This is their fire season, and despite Tanau’s rampages last season, there’s still more here fit to burn, although she didn’t remember seeing lightning.
”Shit, that might be real,” she says tightly, an arm clapping onto Zavien’s, fingers tight with worry as they curl against him. She’s still rigid, tall with alert, leaning like she means to pop up at any moment.
She does.
She drags him with her, a new horror shaking her. ”Enenra,” she breathes, recognizing that foul beast now that she’s seeing clearly.
A slow, but noticeable nod answers his first question, lips pursing in the subtle line of difficult thought. Things to say, but the way to say them is so fluid it’s hard to find the way to maneuver them. ”Yeah,” she says at last as he gently wonders, and her response is for all the above. ”Lost everything to the fire,” she sighs, spine straightening a bit in response, as if just aware of how she’s begun to sag again and meaning to correct it.
She brushes off the bread crumbs on her pants. ”Considered rebuilding…” she trails off, the evidence of how gunshy she is plain. ”Not giving up,” she clarifies, meeting his gaze with a newfound steadiness. ”Just, trying my luck a different way. Going to see if I can’t wrangle Hak Etme into somewhere worth living, actually.” She simpers at that, fully aware how it sounds every time she says it. It’s only gotten funnier, not easier.
Some wind shifts, and her hair flutters against the corner of her mouth. She tugs it away with a finger and a shrug. ”I mean, even now, it’s like I can’t escape it still. I smell it burning all over again.” Which hollows her out with a grief she didn’t mean to bring here, had thought she’d buried. There’s no denying the acrid tang of something burnt for anything else though, and her upper lip peels back in the faintest crinkle of distaste.
Her gaze swings into the distance, like she expects to see it blazing, not that she ever had. Showed up too late. The smoke though, that’s curling again, and for a moment she stiffens in horror. She hadn’t actually expected to visualize the ruin, but the pairing of the sight and the smell are too blatant. This is their fire season, and despite Tanau’s rampages last season, there’s still more here fit to burn, although she didn’t remember seeing lightning.
”Shit, that might be real,” she says tightly, an arm clapping onto Zavien’s, fingers tight with worry as they curl against him. She’s still rigid, tall with alert, leaning like she means to pop up at any moment.
She does.
She drags him with her, a new horror shaking her. ”Enenra,” she breathes, recognizing that foul beast now that she’s seeing clearly.
Let's make a little lemonade if lemons is all we got
Sunset's like a tangerine, let's find a road we've never seen
Don't waste another mile or a minute not kissin' me
Life is short, make it sweet
Sunset's like a tangerine, let's find a road we've never seen
Don't waste another mile or a minute not kissin' me
Life is short, make it sweet
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.
