all of me is damned. From earliest beginnings, my fate has been solitude- elegant solitude, elegant loneliness. I let it walk into me like a cathedral, down its isle- wedding bells sound in the secret place of my heart.
Phizarae Ephereia didn't grasp how she had discovered Kraai, but as she perched off to the side and mutely regarded the crowd, it didn't matter.
Eventually, her lazuli eyes gravitated to what rested before her, some sort of tankard brimming with walnut-hued liquid. She eyed the vapor that billowed from the summit of that heated drink, entranced, as it climbed and evanesced into the boisterous atmosphere. She had sampled the concoction only once when she had first received it and upon being unable to distinguish the unique flavor profile, she felt uneasy and distrustful of the brew in a way perhaps only an outlander could be.
The liquor she had invariably consumed in her life had been exclusively red wine. It had always been of a character that was full-bodied yet still finessed delectable undertones and perfumes to the palate in an at ease manner. In contrast, Kraai had given her everything she unequivocally did not desire: ingredients she could not discern, an atmosphere she sorely stood out in, and a level of amplification that made her secretly anxious.
But as the sun hibernated after hours of daytime and the cold bore down on Halo, she didn't have anywhere else to go.
Her slim hands, donning their habitual lace gloves, finally reached for the mug and raised it to her syrupy lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as she took a swig, permitting the liquid to once more overwhelm her senses with hints and flavors of something.
Eventually, her lazuli eyes gravitated to what rested before her, some sort of tankard brimming with walnut-hued liquid. She eyed the vapor that billowed from the summit of that heated drink, entranced, as it climbed and evanesced into the boisterous atmosphere. She had sampled the concoction only once when she had first received it and upon being unable to distinguish the unique flavor profile, she felt uneasy and distrustful of the brew in a way perhaps only an outlander could be.
The liquor she had invariably consumed in her life had been exclusively red wine. It had always been of a character that was full-bodied yet still finessed delectable undertones and perfumes to the palate in an at ease manner. In contrast, Kraai had given her everything she unequivocally did not desire: ingredients she could not discern, an atmosphere she sorely stood out in, and a level of amplification that made her secretly anxious.
But as the sun hibernated after hours of daytime and the cold bore down on Halo, she didn't have anywhere else to go.
Her slim hands, donning their habitual lace gloves, finally reached for the mug and raised it to her syrupy lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as she took a swig, permitting the liquid to once more overwhelm her senses with hints and flavors of something.
"."
Phizarae
the winteress
