they say that war is hell, but,
true hell begins when the battle ends
and you're the only one whose
hands still drip red
A bright fanged smile is given toward her friend, shifting on her feet in the shade as she follows him around like his shadow — sometimes even stepping into the shadow of none other was around. She can feel herself waning, threats of danger in her scans if the sun remained overhead for too long even hidden as she was. “Hopefully not!” She agrees with a bright chime.
The mention of Torchline though has something Cheshire crossing her face, something conspiratorially pleased. “Bastien and I will be going soon, I think. Mostly at night. There’s nothing to truly arrange for our arrival there, not like seeing Neron would be.” Her head lifts as she regards Deimos with that. “Have you met him? Neron?”
The mention of Torchline though has something Cheshire crossing her face, something conspiratorially pleased. “Bastien and I will be going soon, I think. Mostly at night. There’s nothing to truly arrange for our arrival there, not like seeing Neron would be.” Her head lifts as she regards Deimos with that. “Have you met him? Neron?”
REXANNA
