SuNjATA
the flood
He snorts to her assumption, a crooked smile crossing his face at that. “True.” He agrees – that when something becomes normal and not quite so… Otherworldly, it loses its shine, the thing that makes it special. But he explains the handshake, the customs, and moves on from it – focusing on the next series of questions she has for him. The mention of the gods, and ones that he knows of and those he doesn’t.
Her correction is noted though, by a deep nod of agreement. Steel gaze following as she grabs a string of berries on the vine, listening as it’s almost the same as a… Vein of sorts, like a river, a common powerful source that splits into smaller beings, each one with their own characteristics. And when she mentions that there’s more connected to the divine, not completed, his dark brow lifts with wonder. Deep ones and bright ones and forgotten ones.
He makes a note to try and ask her about them later.
But for the time being, he nods to her in her assumption. Rolling with the changes, surfing the wave, following the crest. “I suppose you’re right.” He concedes, grabbing yet another berry before spending the next bit of time with her before his companion begins to grow restless, beckoning home to rest and recoup, reenergize, and he already knows the trek home with be with the griffin curled up along his shoulders.
So when it’s convenient timing, he bids the Fae farewell, and continues on his way home.
- FIN
Her correction is noted though, by a deep nod of agreement. Steel gaze following as she grabs a string of berries on the vine, listening as it’s almost the same as a… Vein of sorts, like a river, a common powerful source that splits into smaller beings, each one with their own characteristics. And when she mentions that there’s more connected to the divine, not completed, his dark brow lifts with wonder. Deep ones and bright ones and forgotten ones.
He makes a note to try and ask her about them later.
But for the time being, he nods to her in her assumption. Rolling with the changes, surfing the wave, following the crest. “I suppose you’re right.” He concedes, grabbing yet another berry before spending the next bit of time with her before his companion begins to grow restless, beckoning home to rest and recoup, reenergize, and he already knows the trek home with be with the griffin curled up along his shoulders.
So when it’s convenient timing, he bids the Fae farewell, and continues on his way home.
- FIN
if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?
would we fly?
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
