Clemente
run, love
i'm the truth that you're afraid of
i'm the truth that you're afraid of
He squints his eyes disbelievingly at her frustrated assurance, the glare of sundown across the water turning her tail into a dark shape that he assumes to be the deeper parts of the rock. He gives a short huffing sound that implies something like agreement, and stalks like a cat back to the waters edge at her continued curiosity. "'sfine," he waves away gruffly, a completely teenager type response. Though when she calls herself a mermaid, his first reaction (mercifully he manages to conceal it) is to laugh in her face. The second is anger, assuming she's tricking him. But well...flying people exist, don't they?
"Mermaids don't exist," he insists, though he wanders a little closer like a feral cat eyeing a bowl of offered cream. Wary, but interested. "Least I thought so." But if she's telling the truth at least he can answer her initial question, pulling the parasol off his shoulder to open it again. "It's like an umbrella, but for the sun. Lets ya stay in the shade even when it's sunny. Called a parasol."
"Mermaids don't exist," he insists, though he wanders a little closer like a feral cat eyeing a bowl of offered cream. Wary, but interested. "Least I thought so." But if she's telling the truth at least he can answer her initial question, pulling the parasol off his shoulder to open it again. "It's like an umbrella, but for the sun. Lets ya stay in the shade even when it's sunny. Called a parasol."
i'm the fever that you can't get down
Just a martyr on a bridge that's burning down
Just a martyr on a bridge that's burning down
