we're always running scared but holding knives
"Remi, I haven't enjoyed a meal in years now and you've got the audacity to sit here with a full picnic basket, shirtless." Isla raises her eyebrows at him, as if to say that the blame lays firmly on his shoulders. "Besides, I bet you anything that there's bread and butter, meat and cake in that basket."
Humming doubtfully, she gives him that one, she supposes. "I guess having children is something like a battlefield," she admits with a shrug, not that she will ever have that experience. "How do you know?" she asks about the perfume, though she may as well not bother - she knows the predators that lurk in Remi's bones, and their sense of smell is impeccable.
"I do enjoy hanging out with you while you're shifted." While they are both shifted, she nearly says, but that takes them into the weird territory where she needs to get a shift from Remi first. "I am awful at charades. You?"
Humming doubtfully, she gives him that one, she supposes. "I guess having children is something like a battlefield," she admits with a shrug, not that she will ever have that experience. "How do you know?" she asks about the perfume, though she may as well not bother - she knows the predators that lurk in Remi's bones, and their sense of smell is impeccable.
"I do enjoy hanging out with you while you're shifted." While they are both shifted, she nearly says, but that takes them into the weird territory where she needs to get a shift from Remi first. "I am awful at charades. You?"
Isla
