COLT
I've been sleeping wide awake
Slow dancing 'round the cracks in the floorboards
Fighting myself while lying in a
Bed I made and can't ignore
Slow dancing 'round the cracks in the floorboards
Fighting myself while lying in a
Bed I made and can't ignore
Perhaps her operative word here should be, I'll try to have it this time. Her bowcord snaps partway through the draw, the arrow flopping down ahead of her with a great, searing curse cleaving her lips in its wake. Being knocked over and quickly rolling away as she had early had done unknown damage to her bow, the device just an ordinary one, not so god-touched as the quiver. A thing she meant to be working on now, in fact, but that had been her plans before her life went up in smoke and she meandered instead to the desert and its dunes, terribly empty of her favored god's devoted space to worship. Now it'd be some time before she could work on something better than this, and she huffs in greater frustration at the coompounding factors of difficulty.
Fortunately, Deimos is not tethered to such breakable options, and with a notion of preparedness, he aims at both creatures, not permitting them to attempt another act of violence upon anyone. They writhe into a finally, kicking squirm, their shiny bodies eventually turning over, legs locking into a curl against their abdomens. His fire (and the air and the life drain wound with it) engulfs them, both spiders near enough for his aim to land and sweep them both into the afterlife.
Relieved to see their bodies fall at last, Colt sighs and straightens up a bit. She touches her healing ring to her, the warm glow settling into her body, reducing some of the wear and tear she'd acquired here, though it cannot repair her bow. "...Sorry," she offers Deimos as the group regathers, readying to keep pushing on until they can ensure the forest is clear. Colt, rather useless without her main armament, trades with a guile mate who has more options than she, and they continue on to fortify the Greenwing back into a place devoid of spiders.
Colt: 139 HP
Deimos: 1335 HP
Spider 1: 0 HP
Soider 2: 0 HP
[FIN]
Fortunately, Deimos is not tethered to such breakable options, and with a notion of preparedness, he aims at both creatures, not permitting them to attempt another act of violence upon anyone. They writhe into a finally, kicking squirm, their shiny bodies eventually turning over, legs locking into a curl against their abdomens. His fire (and the air and the life drain wound with it) engulfs them, both spiders near enough for his aim to land and sweep them both into the afterlife.
Relieved to see their bodies fall at last, Colt sighs and straightens up a bit. She touches her healing ring to her, the warm glow settling into her body, reducing some of the wear and tear she'd acquired here, though it cannot repair her bow. "...Sorry," she offers Deimos as the group regathers, readying to keep pushing on until they can ensure the forest is clear. Colt, rather useless without her main armament, trades with a guile mate who has more options than she, and they continue on to fortify the Greenwing back into a place devoid of spiders.
Colt: 139 HP
Deimos: 1335 HP
Spider 1: 0 HP
Soider 2: 0 HP
[FIN]
I'm tired of running from the conversations
Screaming in the silence, all alone
I'm frustrated, I can't take it
But I'll fake it, then I'll hate myself again
Screaming in the silence, all alone
I'm frustrated, I can't take it
But I'll fake it, then I'll hate myself again
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.
