NATE
Life is hard that's why no one survives
I'm much older than I thought I'd be
I'm much older than I thought I'd be
It's clear Nate's not expecting to be spoken to, with the way his hunched form suddenly straightens, rising up to his full height with his arms pulled in tight to his sides. He's barely noticed the woman as he was approaching, but now, she's the only thing he can look at, mostly because of the golden dragon wrapped around her shoulders. The solitary blue eye widens, Nate leaning in closer, just a touch, but more than enough to send his whole form swaying.
There's something strange about the woman, something almost otherwordly, though it's difficult to put his finger on exactly what. She can't be from Halo, but she doesn't seem to belong to anywhere else either. At least, no where that he knows of. She has to belong somewhere.
Her question is one that Nate really isn't sure he's in the right place to answer. The chugging of his mind is almost audible, as he tries to construct a lie, while his mouth decides to take matters into it's own hands, and answers for him. "Yes. No, um, no, not alright, but... surviving." The uncharacteristic babbling has an even more uncharacteristic nervous bark of laughter leaving him, his tongue twisted but pressing on. "It's... cold, I'm cold. I'm sorry, can you... there's a Kraai, around here, but I've lost it." If he were more aware, he'd be a touch smug at how smoothly the Korofi rolled off his tongue, but as he was he barely registered it as a different language.
Finally, his mind catches up, wrangles control of his tongue again, but the only real decision he's come to is a kind of trade. It's fair in his mind. She had asked a question, and he had answered. Now he got to ask a question, for her to answer. "Is that a real dragon? Does it bite?"
There's something strange about the woman, something almost otherwordly, though it's difficult to put his finger on exactly what. She can't be from Halo, but she doesn't seem to belong to anywhere else either. At least, no where that he knows of. She has to belong somewhere.
Her question is one that Nate really isn't sure he's in the right place to answer. The chugging of his mind is almost audible, as he tries to construct a lie, while his mouth decides to take matters into it's own hands, and answers for him. "Yes. No, um, no, not alright, but... surviving." The uncharacteristic babbling has an even more uncharacteristic nervous bark of laughter leaving him, his tongue twisted but pressing on. "It's... cold, I'm cold. I'm sorry, can you... there's a Kraai, around here, but I've lost it." If he were more aware, he'd be a touch smug at how smoothly the Korofi rolled off his tongue, but as he was he barely registered it as a different language.
Finally, his mind catches up, wrangles control of his tongue again, but the only real decision he's come to is a kind of trade. It's fair in his mind. She had asked a question, and he had answered. Now he got to ask a question, for her to answer. "Is that a real dragon? Does it bite?"
Feel like a fool, yeah, like a dancing fool, yeah
Footloose and fancy free
Footloose and fancy free
