in tenebris est veritas.
The little stone is blue...ish. Perhaps a bit dark in comparison to the brilliant aquamarine ocean, though it is hard to compare the smooth horizon with the irregular texture anyway. It is streaked with plenty of discolorations, here a crusty white and there an intermittent mossy color. When held to the light of the sun, it does have a bit of an azure sheen. It is certainly unique.
But is it worthy?
It rolls from a pair of calloused fingers and into a considering palm, which bobs up and down to test the weight of it. Dark eyes peer appraisingly down at it from beneath the shadow of a stag skull mask, which is removed from where it usually covers their scarred face to be perched atop their head like a shady hat. They frown, unable to decide whether to throw the peculiar rock or keep it.
Their expression shifts into a mild panic as they hear a noise from behind. Quickly they move the mask to cover their face, hiding the stone within their fist.
But is it worthy?
It rolls from a pair of calloused fingers and into a considering palm, which bobs up and down to test the weight of it. Dark eyes peer appraisingly down at it from beneath the shadow of a stag skull mask, which is removed from where it usually covers their scarred face to be perched atop their head like a shady hat. They frown, unable to decide whether to throw the peculiar rock or keep it.
Their expression shifts into a mild panic as they hear a noise from behind. Quickly they move the mask to cover their face, hiding the stone within their fist.
