Jiao
Your clothes never wear as well the next day
And your hair never falls in quite the same way
You never seem to run out of things to say
And your hair never falls in quite the same way
You never seem to run out of things to say
Killian apologised for being an Outlander, which she found curious. It wasn't like an apology was going to make him not an intruder here. She supposed it was nice on principle, though, though she suspected he had no idea what he was actually saying sorry for.
He described this world as 'greyish', which she could hardly argue with; as far as she'd seen it really was very dingy outside of the woods. It seemed without the influence of the Fae, the landscape only grew flowers in the shades of mud and sewage.
"A war?" Suddenly she seemed interested, floating down to sit cross-legged on the roots of the tree. "What over? Why? Were you gonna fight in it?"
