SUNJATA
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind
i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
She avoids his gaze, at least until he offers his well wishes – unsure how well she intends on taking them or how seriously she lets herself believe they are. But he means it – the honesty settles in the cracks of his accent, and as her gaze lifts to meet his, there’s nothing but the truth settled there in the shadowed stormy sea his own provide back. “I’m pretty sure you won’t have a shortage of it.” Especially with dealing with Hak Etme – the boneyard specifically a place he fully intends on never returning to.
That was the place where he’d been forever changed, back when he’d lost his first companion. Back when his soul had been shredded and he’d had to figure out how to pick up the pieces of it. Something he was still learning how to do – even more so, these days.
So instead, he focuses on the mention of her land – of something that he has a direct hold over that he isn’t sure whether or not she’d prefer he do something with it or leave it as is if she wanted the scarred reminder of it. So he sips from his tea while she takes her time, not pushy one way or another – it’s part of the grace they can give each other after their last meeting. And when the answer comes, he nods his head with a bit of his own understanding. “Thank you, Colt. For that and for telling me.” He offers quieter, because somehow it feels like a final goodbye even if it likely wouldn’t be. It feels like something fragile that’s about to break and there’s nothing they can do to prevent it.
That was the place where he’d been forever changed, back when he’d lost his first companion. Back when his soul had been shredded and he’d had to figure out how to pick up the pieces of it. Something he was still learning how to do – even more so, these days.
So instead, he focuses on the mention of her land – of something that he has a direct hold over that he isn’t sure whether or not she’d prefer he do something with it or leave it as is if she wanted the scarred reminder of it. So he sips from his tea while she takes her time, not pushy one way or another – it’s part of the grace they can give each other after their last meeting. And when the answer comes, he nods his head with a bit of his own understanding. “Thank you, Colt. For that and for telling me.” He offers quieter, because somehow it feels like a final goodbye even if it likely wouldn’t be. It feels like something fragile that’s about to break and there’s nothing they can do to prevent it.
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me
well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
