Clemente
run, love
i'm the truth that you're afraid of
i'm the truth that you're afraid of
He's not expecting a wingless woman to come walking out of the trees. Though...well, he supposes the Fae had said anyone could visit the Greatwood so long as they were not Ascended. A sting of jealousy pokes at his stomach, but he watches her with quiet, pale eyes as she approaches. She seems uncertain, conflicted, and he feels awkward next to her diminutive form. But at least she seems kindly enough, and he latches onto the topic with gusto.
"Whatsit like in there? I can't go in," he admits with a self-conscious shrug. Were he human, perhaps he'd clasp his arms about himself, hiding away from the cold and the accusation both. But he is too used to being nerveless now, can't even remember how much he used to despise and fear the cold.
"Whatsit like in there? I can't go in," he admits with a self-conscious shrug. Were he human, perhaps he'd clasp his arms about himself, hiding away from the cold and the accusation both. But he is too used to being nerveless now, can't even remember how much he used to despise and fear the cold.
i'm the fever that you can't get down
Just a martyr on a bridge that's burning down
Just a martyr on a bridge that's burning down
