Raining on me so damn long, but that's relief to a man who calls a desert home
Colt's expression gentles further at Flora's blunt admission, but anything remotely close to me too would be a lie. She might be glad to have shared the conversation they did, might not shy away from Torchline's port or shore any more, but no, she isn't really to just shrug it all away and talk about how miserable the heat and the work has been, how vicious the creatures have been, how deliriously exhausting and yet deeply rewarding each day that's survived has felt. Flora is still so many things and yet lacks the very one Colt needs to manage anything resembling casual banter.
"I'm glad to hear it," she smiles, the motion not propped up on her face but genuinely finding its way there. "I didn't want us left as we were." She can't accurately repeat the sentiment back to Flora, of being fine. She might be tomorrow, or the next day. For now though, she's just someone who's spent too much time retracing the path that led her here in the first place to wander off the familiar route so easily now. It'd take more time than this to let some of the trail grow wild again. That has always been Colt's worst traits, getting stuck in thickets and brush and stubbornly staying there, as if every scratch is proof she'll just earn another one, so why bother when she at least knows where these ones will snag her.
She nods at the thanks, getting to her feet with a fluid movement. "Mm, the truth always has a way of coming out." Colt shifts, pulling her cigarette back out of her pocket and putting the wrinkled shape of it to her lips. "Just sometimes takes longer than this." She talks around the edge of it, fingers slipping back in her pockets for her matchbook, striking one to heat and light as she heads towards the door.
"Good luck with everything, Flora," Colt says as a matter of farewell, cigarette beginning to smoke, the match shaken out as she pulls on the handle of the door. "You've got a lot to carry now compared to last time I saw you." It's not meant to land as anything more than observation, though Colt's eyes linger a touch longer on Flora than feels right for the departing glance. Almost as if she's trying to remember the way she looks in this moment, when there's still something bright and new to celebrate and not just the weight of its responsibility. Colt might not have nearly the hefty crown of the Torchline queen, in fact hers is only the shadow of one descending, but already that's proven weighty. Demigod, bar owner, friend, memory-keeper. All manner of straw piling up on Flora, seeming light, until it builds. "Good thing you're strong." She offers a wink before slipping outside, sealing The Last Word behind her.
[FIN]
"I'm glad to hear it," she smiles, the motion not propped up on her face but genuinely finding its way there. "I didn't want us left as we were." She can't accurately repeat the sentiment back to Flora, of being fine. She might be tomorrow, or the next day. For now though, she's just someone who's spent too much time retracing the path that led her here in the first place to wander off the familiar route so easily now. It'd take more time than this to let some of the trail grow wild again. That has always been Colt's worst traits, getting stuck in thickets and brush and stubbornly staying there, as if every scratch is proof she'll just earn another one, so why bother when she at least knows where these ones will snag her.
She nods at the thanks, getting to her feet with a fluid movement. "Mm, the truth always has a way of coming out." Colt shifts, pulling her cigarette back out of her pocket and putting the wrinkled shape of it to her lips. "Just sometimes takes longer than this." She talks around the edge of it, fingers slipping back in her pockets for her matchbook, striking one to heat and light as she heads towards the door.
"Good luck with everything, Flora," Colt says as a matter of farewell, cigarette beginning to smoke, the match shaken out as she pulls on the handle of the door. "You've got a lot to carry now compared to last time I saw you." It's not meant to land as anything more than observation, though Colt's eyes linger a touch longer on Flora than feels right for the departing glance. Almost as if she's trying to remember the way she looks in this moment, when there's still something bright and new to celebrate and not just the weight of its responsibility. Colt might not have nearly the hefty crown of the Torchline queen, in fact hers is only the shadow of one descending, but already that's proven weighty. Demigod, bar owner, friend, memory-keeper. All manner of straw piling up on Flora, seeming light, until it builds. "Good thing you're strong." She offers a wink before slipping outside, sealing The Last Word behind her.
[FIN]
Colt
Still gripping the shovel that got me here, fear if I let go I might disappear
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.
