I will be your lighthouse
Her entire ass, that's correct. He'd even throw on a sheet and everything and stand around corners to scare the shit out of her. Which, on second thought, sounds a bit dangerous for his health if her immediate response is violence, which it's likely to be, but maybe he'd just end up a toad instead of vaporized.
Muttering something about seamstresses being the worst gossips between another bite of taco, Iskra chews slowly as she furthers the tale. Enough so, that at some point he's forgotten to finish eating at all, tortilla and meat held in a cheek pocket like a cow with cud as he becomes absorbed with the very same wonder of the town's folk. Yes, what is happening? "The house was eating them," he whispers his hypothesis, "or something living in the house. A foul beast." Something the town would have to rally to slay. Nearby, the shape of the pegasus flying around draws his gaze, and he's briefly broken from the tale as he glances over at it, motion requiring he peek. It's a beautiful, wild sight to behold, and he might have admired it longer were he not already engrossed in Mel's tale.
Missing her reach because of the distraction, it also helps him finally remember to swallow. He shifts now to drink the hibiscus tea, leaning in naturally as she does, straw following him and glass tipping with him. "She just forgot!?" he sputtered, a modicum of outrage buried in the query. "Kids," he mutters instead, as if that summarizes her fault fully. "Too distracted. We would have never." Potential death and dismemberment? What better adventure could there be?
Iskra's gaze narrows as a new figure, Calla, enters the scene. "She's up to something," he declares with disfavor, clearly rooting for Violet, despite her attention issues, to prevail.
Muttering something about seamstresses being the worst gossips between another bite of taco, Iskra chews slowly as she furthers the tale. Enough so, that at some point he's forgotten to finish eating at all, tortilla and meat held in a cheek pocket like a cow with cud as he becomes absorbed with the very same wonder of the town's folk. Yes, what is happening? "The house was eating them," he whispers his hypothesis, "or something living in the house. A foul beast." Something the town would have to rally to slay. Nearby, the shape of the pegasus flying around draws his gaze, and he's briefly broken from the tale as he glances over at it, motion requiring he peek. It's a beautiful, wild sight to behold, and he might have admired it longer were he not already engrossed in Mel's tale.
Missing her reach because of the distraction, it also helps him finally remember to swallow. He shifts now to drink the hibiscus tea, leaning in naturally as she does, straw following him and glass tipping with him. "She just forgot!?" he sputtered, a modicum of outrage buried in the query. "Kids," he mutters instead, as if that summarizes her fault fully. "Too distracted. We would have never." Potential death and dismemberment? What better adventure could there be?
Iskra's gaze narrows as a new figure, Calla, enters the scene. "She's up to something," he declares with disfavor, clearly rooting for Violet, despite her attention issues, to prevail.
Iskra
