COLT
My clothes still smell like smoke
Your name's still in my throat
But the glow ain't worth the burn that loving leaves
Your name's still in my throat
But the glow ain't worth the burn that loving leaves
The desert has always been good at hiding things. Like the ocean, it has depths yet to be fully explored, and though this land is not vast compared to the sea, its heat stretches on long enough to turn away most, and the sand and wind shuffle secrets beneath their own tide of motion and time. Grateful for the cooler time of year, Colt has been traveling the banks and corridors of bone and dust in search of hidden resources and better understanding of this region.
Deepfrost though it may be, she still wears the cooling clothing for this area. A lightweight long-sleeve shirt and pants, loose and billowing in passing breezes. It keeps her protected better from the sun, and traps what sweat she has so it stays there to cool on her skin. Her boots carry her with purposeful strides over the expanse, barefoot in the least sense of the word (that is, horse-less for once). Her hat's angled to keep the sun from her eyes, and behind her the rattle of arrows in her quiver keeps tempo with every other stride as she moves.
She's been heading towards a dark smear on the horizon, the stain on the sea of gold sparking interest, but as she gets closer, her steps slow. The scene of disrupted travel and hunger being sated (?) gradually unravels into view, and then stretches and rolls and flickers away again. That the details prove difficult to pin down, the edges of the creature hazy in a way the crabs here have mastered, is proof enough to her that getting too close would be disastrous. The sheer size of it is threat enough, nevermind its fuckery. Keeping still and far enough away that she shouldn't have snagged its attention easily, she begins to rifle through her options to untangle from this less than ideal situation.
Colt observes from a distance (not in range).
On her is everything in her profile and a pocket knife, a shortbow, arrows in her quiver, and a small pack with some food, a canteen with water, and basic first aid supplies.
Deepfrost though it may be, she still wears the cooling clothing for this area. A lightweight long-sleeve shirt and pants, loose and billowing in passing breezes. It keeps her protected better from the sun, and traps what sweat she has so it stays there to cool on her skin. Her boots carry her with purposeful strides over the expanse, barefoot in the least sense of the word (that is, horse-less for once). Her hat's angled to keep the sun from her eyes, and behind her the rattle of arrows in her quiver keeps tempo with every other stride as she moves.
She's been heading towards a dark smear on the horizon, the stain on the sea of gold sparking interest, but as she gets closer, her steps slow. The scene of disrupted travel and hunger being sated (?) gradually unravels into view, and then stretches and rolls and flickers away again. That the details prove difficult to pin down, the edges of the creature hazy in a way the crabs here have mastered, is proof enough to her that getting too close would be disastrous. The sheer size of it is threat enough, nevermind its fuckery. Keeping still and far enough away that she shouldn't have snagged its attention easily, she begins to rifle through her options to untangle from this less than ideal situation.
Colt observes from a distance (not in range).
On her is everything in her profile and a pocket knife, a shortbow, arrows in her quiver, and a small pack with some food, a canteen with water, and basic first aid supplies.
When fire meets gasoline
Lights you up quick but you can't control the heat
It burns bright but damn you lose everything
We only ever end up ashes on the breeze
Lights you up quick but you can't control the heat
It burns bright but damn you lose everything
We only ever end up ashes on the breeze
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.
