Apparently her new profession is explorer, because she has spent very little time hunting lately. Her and Korbin had been in the Grounds for quite a while and then finally gone home to Halo. However, when they reached the portal there was a new place visible on the signs and of course, they decided to go. Not that she didn’t hunt at all (they had to eat, after all), but she wasn’t living in the same monotony of hunt, trade, sleep, do it again. It was nice, honestly, to change up the pace of life and get out. There’s still something about the portals being open that worries her, but this seems like one of those ‘if you can’t beat em, join em’ scenarios and she definitely wasn’t going to beat them.
The portals were being opened, whether she liked it or not. Might as well roll with it.
Torchline is unlike anything she could have imagined growing up in Halo. She finds herself wandering without much purpose, ending up on a beach beside blue seas and oh...a man, apparently. It is low tide and she’d wandered across the sandbar to find an impossibly stunning building of seaglass and coral but also a man. A drunk man, she thinks, given the smell of rum in the air. Not like she didn’t know how to handle a drunk man.
Her skin had been getting used to the sun during her time in the Grounds, and though it is stronger here she is brave enough to go with a short-sleeve top, pants, and barefeet. Her shoes are stuffed in her pack, the sand and water was too tempting a thing so she’d cuffed her pants and gone wandering around wiggling her toes in the sand. It was such a strange and wonderful thing to walk barefoot. You didn’t even walk barefoot in the house in Halo.
She turns her attention to the man, eyes drifting to the knives along her person (much like her own collection of knives, strung along her belt and hidden in all sorts of other places). Her scythe sweeps above her head in a macabre sort of halo. “Well well, it seems I’ve stumbled upon someone with good taste in drink and weaponry. Care to share?” Let’s see just want she’s dealing with.
The portals were being opened, whether she liked it or not. Might as well roll with it.
Torchline is unlike anything she could have imagined growing up in Halo. She finds herself wandering without much purpose, ending up on a beach beside blue seas and oh...a man, apparently. It is low tide and she’d wandered across the sandbar to find an impossibly stunning building of seaglass and coral but also a man. A drunk man, she thinks, given the smell of rum in the air. Not like she didn’t know how to handle a drunk man.
Her skin had been getting used to the sun during her time in the Grounds, and though it is stronger here she is brave enough to go with a short-sleeve top, pants, and barefeet. Her shoes are stuffed in her pack, the sand and water was too tempting a thing so she’d cuffed her pants and gone wandering around wiggling her toes in the sand. It was such a strange and wonderful thing to walk barefoot. You didn’t even walk barefoot in the house in Halo.
She turns her attention to the man, eyes drifting to the knives along her person (much like her own collection of knives, strung along her belt and hidden in all sorts of other places). Her scythe sweeps above her head in a macabre sort of halo. “Well well, it seems I’ve stumbled upon someone with good taste in drink and weaponry. Care to share?” Let’s see just want she’s dealing with.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
