// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
There’s no reaction from Noah and suddenly Sunjata feels very much like he had each and every time he was around Deimos. It’s a loose web of discomfort that settles over him, one that he keeps meticulously hidden from Noah. Instead, spending the moments to watch as the smaller feline slips from his spot toward the panther’s left to collect some brambles. And as the other man shifts back, Sunjata blinks at the other man, calculating as best he can.
So he shifts as well, not needing his panther shift when Noah had shifted back. So he stands, hands shoved into his pockets, drawing to his full height. He watches Noah from quiet reserved steel, working his jaw as the scar on his cheek moves slightly with the movement. His neck is gouged deep with scars as well, ones that slowly begin to fill in with the black plates of his dragon shift to ward off the cold – only the plates of the dragon are just as jagged and broken as his skin appeared beneath.
Suppose it’s a getaway more than a free land. He poses the thought through the Attuned bond, still watching Noah curiously before his attention shifts toward something else, a few branches of a particular dogwood tree, which shoot out in red as bright as a sunset. He steps the opposite way away from Noah toward it, fingers shifting to claws and snipping a few of these more decorative branches off. Hopefully you find what you’re looking for. He says idly, drawing up again and slipping the ends of those branches into a pocket.
So he shifts as well, not needing his panther shift when Noah had shifted back. So he stands, hands shoved into his pockets, drawing to his full height. He watches Noah from quiet reserved steel, working his jaw as the scar on his cheek moves slightly with the movement. His neck is gouged deep with scars as well, ones that slowly begin to fill in with the black plates of his dragon shift to ward off the cold – only the plates of the dragon are just as jagged and broken as his skin appeared beneath.
Suppose it’s a getaway more than a free land. He poses the thought through the Attuned bond, still watching Noah curiously before his attention shifts toward something else, a few branches of a particular dogwood tree, which shoot out in red as bright as a sunset. He steps the opposite way away from Noah toward it, fingers shifting to claws and snipping a few of these more decorative branches off. Hopefully you find what you’re looking for. He says idly, drawing up again and slipping the ends of those branches into a pocket.
some princes don't become kings
SUNJATA
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.
