SUNJATA
the flood
“Not exactly. But we’re close.” He rumbles, his words ending on a brief moment of a purr before his demeanor changes again and he’s explaining his symptoms, remaining sat along the ground as he focuses his attention half at Saiden and half at the stars above. “A while.” He offers him, because he doesn’t know how long it’s been. “Start of the season maybe? That’s what Safrin said.” Taking a scarred hand he points upward toward the sky.
At the next comment though, he shrugs his shoulders indifferently. “Don't remember how or when I got here.” He says as if it explains everything. “Or sometimes why. Apparently I wander.” A forked tongue runs along his lower lip as he looks to Saiden and the flask, shaking his head.
He leans back against the stone, navy feathers filling out his shoulders to keep some of the warmth of his fevered skin inside, a shrug given to the subject of not wanting to get too close.
At the next comment though, he shrugs his shoulders indifferently. “Don't remember how or when I got here.” He says as if it explains everything. “Or sometimes why. Apparently I wander.” A forked tongue runs along his lower lip as he looks to Saiden and the flask, shaking his head.
He leans back against the stone, navy feathers filling out his shoulders to keep some of the warmth of his fevered skin inside, a shrug given to the subject of not wanting to get too close.
did you get out all of that angry passion?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
