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
She isn't quite sure how to take what Remi says when the lines themselves compete with what sits between them. She believes him, figuring that being employed by the divine does not make skirting any directive a wise or desirable choice, but equally, he's so damn cheeky about the whole affair that she finds herself unusually skeptical. "Uh huh," she answers with no small amount of suspicion, gaze narrowing like the chicken gif as she evaluates him. "Guess I'll just try and ride the ursur then, put you to the test." She shrugs, grabbing at nonchalance like it's the only fair return for this.
At the exclamation of a name Colt stiffens. When Ronin whips around, she's only guilty by association, but her face straightens at once as if amusement is enough to turn her hands red. It cracks the moment the what draws out with all the complaint of someone being framed. Clucking her tongue in something like disappointment, aimed at herself, her lips slant to one side. "Can't win 'em all," she laments in return to Ronin.
The moment slides into something actually serious, for her at least, as Deimos points out that the lumbering beast is at a proximity much closer than anticipated. Her mirth falters as her focus settles on it, scanning its easy stride for any understanding or knowledge she could glean that'd help. Pulling her bow off her shoulders, Colt readies as Ronin dashes off and Deimos climbs the sky.
"What?" she tosses out to Remi, casting a glance back at him, utterly unable to help herself. "When he runs away from you?" Tucking the smile into her cheek, she crouches down a little lower and moves with intention over the tundra, using Ronin's motion as cover to scuttle to the nearby rocks that are in range for cover, and if there's any sensation of Remi cloaking around her, the spike of her adrenaline and the cut of the wind don't tell her.
Colt readies her weapon and hunkers down by the rocks for cover, in range of the Ursur
At the exclamation of a name Colt stiffens. When Ronin whips around, she's only guilty by association, but her face straightens at once as if amusement is enough to turn her hands red. It cracks the moment the what draws out with all the complaint of someone being framed. Clucking her tongue in something like disappointment, aimed at herself, her lips slant to one side. "Can't win 'em all," she laments in return to Ronin.
The moment slides into something actually serious, for her at least, as Deimos points out that the lumbering beast is at a proximity much closer than anticipated. Her mirth falters as her focus settles on it, scanning its easy stride for any understanding or knowledge she could glean that'd help. Pulling her bow off her shoulders, Colt readies as Ronin dashes off and Deimos climbs the sky.
"What?" she tosses out to Remi, casting a glance back at him, utterly unable to help herself. "When he runs away from you?" Tucking the smile into her cheek, she crouches down a little lower and moves with intention over the tundra, using Ronin's motion as cover to scuttle to the nearby rocks that are in range for cover, and if there's any sensation of Remi cloaking around her, the spike of her adrenaline and the cut of the wind don't tell her.
Colt readies her weapon and hunkers down by the rocks for cover, in range of the Ursur
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.
