The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display
a morbid painting on display
Tension bleeds away from both parties, given enough time. Both tentative, circling creatures, trying to determine the threat level of this new fellow they've encountered. Atlas snuffles from behind her, and breaks the silence with a mighty sneeze. Hotaru startles, and gives a helpless giggle before she can clamp down on it. Perhaps she has been too fierce, too intense. Though she refuses to apologize for it, for that dark nature that lurks beneath the guise of elegance and deference, at least she can try to steer things back to the right path.
At the suggestion, she tilts her head to regard Atlas, whose bright gold eyes blink blearily back at her. The bond may be new, but Hotaru has years of experience navigating one, and quickly discerns the unicorn's assertion. Turning back to Rance to communicate what the man cannot hear or feel. "He believes he can. Please, can you guide us?" The least she can do is try to be a tad more polite. Her pride means nothing in the face of keeping Atlas safe.
At the suggestion, she tilts her head to regard Atlas, whose bright gold eyes blink blearily back at her. The bond may be new, but Hotaru has years of experience navigating one, and quickly discerns the unicorn's assertion. Turning back to Rance to communicate what the man cannot hear or feel. "He believes he can. Please, can you guide us?" The least she can do is try to be a tad more polite. Her pride means nothing in the face of keeping Atlas safe.
This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides
Buried at each others sides
