ISKRA
I always feel alone, inside my mind
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
That his threat holds little water is only mildly insulting, in the least possible manner, if only because comparatively he is the snowball champion between the two of them. Even if Vesper had kicked his ass that one time...
He only has enough time to widen his eyes before the next snowball strikes, an arm cast out to bat it away though the sharpnel of fluffy snow breaks around his hand and salts his face. He fires off his own shot back towards her, gathering another right behind it, frost glistening in his beard as he turns amid the soft daylight making its way past buildings and trees.
Fighting his way through her onslaught, he closes the gap between them and springs up in close range, reaching to pull her to him and trap the quickfire of her ire and its snowball rapidfire. "Come on!" he declares with a faint grunt as he corrals her, breath puffing with the mild exertion and excitement. Thoughts are already petering away from revenge to the trepidations of lightning though, and its part of why he's bundled her up in his grip, as if strength could be passed off by mere contact alone. "Let's go zap some shit."
Destruction at least is a language they both speak, and despite the hiccups against this particular brand of it, he hopes dangling the carrot of its outcome out before her will grant encouragement. "If we keep heading that way, the trees'll clear," he informs with a nod, arms loosening against her and a step aside opening up the route as he settles beside her instead. One arm lingers, wouns with hers, fingers flexed open within his glove for her own. Goose will futifully follow.
He only has enough time to widen his eyes before the next snowball strikes, an arm cast out to bat it away though the sharpnel of fluffy snow breaks around his hand and salts his face. He fires off his own shot back towards her, gathering another right behind it, frost glistening in his beard as he turns amid the soft daylight making its way past buildings and trees.
Fighting his way through her onslaught, he closes the gap between them and springs up in close range, reaching to pull her to him and trap the quickfire of her ire and its snowball rapidfire. "Come on!" he declares with a faint grunt as he corrals her, breath puffing with the mild exertion and excitement. Thoughts are already petering away from revenge to the trepidations of lightning though, and its part of why he's bundled her up in his grip, as if strength could be passed off by mere contact alone. "Let's go zap some shit."
Destruction at least is a language they both speak, and despite the hiccups against this particular brand of it, he hopes dangling the carrot of its outcome out before her will grant encouragement. "If we keep heading that way, the trees'll clear," he informs with a nod, arms loosening against her and a step aside opening up the route as he settles beside her instead. One arm lingers, wouns with hers, fingers flexed open within his glove for her own. Goose will futifully follow.
I've been trying to find something
that can set my soul free
that can set my soul free
