her wild feral stare, her dark hair
her winter lips
Cider is offered, poured into glasses for all of them, and Kiada settles into her seat easily, shifting her plate over so Deimos could place some of the potatoes and vegetables on there, telling him when enough was enough, so she wouldn’t take too much – knowing how tough it was in Halo to keep the ingredients for as long as possible during this treacherous season. And so she pauses before she sips from the cider, gaze drifting toward Chulane with a playful smile on her face. “To second chances.” She chimes, her glass clinking against both Deimos’ and Chulane’s, before she takes a sip.
It doesn’t taste like much, maybe a brief dull hint of what the flavors were, but she tries to pretend. Tries to pretend she can feel the sparkle of apple and spices on her tongue, on the sharpness of it all. It works for a time, before the glass is sat down and she digs into the meat – her knife easily slicing through it – well versed in weapons of the sort and it shows – before she’s taking a bite.
Deimos’ explanation has Kiada chewing a bit slower, figuring out the limits of the senses she has, trying to imagine what it’s like in comparison to the venison she used to eat. “It tastes great, Deimos. How did you make it?” She offers, spearing a potato now to try that out. There’s a hint of taste from the meat on her tongue, gone in a flash, and she hopes her compliment is well received despite all of them knowing that she couldn’t accurately taste it.
It doesn’t taste like much, maybe a brief dull hint of what the flavors were, but she tries to pretend. Tries to pretend she can feel the sparkle of apple and spices on her tongue, on the sharpness of it all. It works for a time, before the glass is sat down and she digs into the meat – her knife easily slicing through it – well versed in weapons of the sort and it shows – before she’s taking a bite.
Deimos’ explanation has Kiada chewing a bit slower, figuring out the limits of the senses she has, trying to imagine what it’s like in comparison to the venison she used to eat. “It tastes great, Deimos. How did you make it?” She offers, spearing a potato now to try that out. There’s a hint of taste from the meat on her tongue, gone in a flash, and she hopes her compliment is well received despite all of them knowing that she couldn’t accurately taste it.
as cold as stone
KIADA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
