KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
After Chulane's 'intervention' Korbin had been cleaned up a bit, but that was about as far as he had allowed things to go. He still wore his tattered black coat, and his own washed clothes, and fading bruises colored the skin around his eyes in hues of yellow and green. He threw the woman a quick glance but did not slow down to accommodate her, and the offered pastry was ignored.
He wasn't really going anywhere, but that did not mean he wanted company. Korbin never did, these days. The exceptions of broken silence had been few and far between, and none could be said to have been pleasant. Or permanent.
Long legs stretched out to increase the pace a little more, hoping that the woman would fall behind, or at least be too winded to talk. He really was not in the mood for inane babble from a stranger. Nor for anything else, really.
He wasn't really going anywhere, but that did not mean he wanted company. Korbin never did, these days. The exceptions of broken silence had been few and far between, and none could be said to have been pleasant. Or permanent.
Long legs stretched out to increase the pace a little more, hoping that the woman would fall behind, or at least be too winded to talk. He really was not in the mood for inane babble from a stranger. Nor for anything else, really.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
