don't try to follow me, i would hold you down if i could make you the enemy,
The Flood’s canine shift brings him to lay on the ground with panting breaths as the game ends, as Wessex stills. Her answer is one that Sunjata doesn’t quite believe off the bat, but it does make him shift back into himself, laying flat on the ground beside her on his back, his chest rising and falling with quiet little attempts to catch his breath, his steel gaze exhausted as he stares up into the endless sky.
The General continues, though, and he finds himself tilting his head slightly to scan her from his peripheral as he continues to watch the sky. “I don’t blame you.” He rumbles, his voice less accented not in the attuned bond, but the twists and lilts are still there. “I used to be. Back in my own world. Kind of fucked that up, though. I was forced to exile.” He admits, unable to remember if he’s told her any of his own history before when they weren’t just heated arguments. It’s in the open now, though, brow pinching a fraction as he inhales a sharp breath and turns to roll onto his side to face Wessex more fully.
“I’m sorry.” He begins with a glimmer of more understanding underlining his words. “For the position you’re in. I know it’s not the same as what I went through and I know we have had… Our arguments in the past.” This is said with a soft snort, half amused and half exhausted. “But if you want to vent to someone, I like to think I’m a good listener.” The smile that tugs on his face is softer than Wessex has probably seen, even if it tugs on the scar his father had given him in a way that warps it slightly.
The General continues, though, and he finds himself tilting his head slightly to scan her from his peripheral as he continues to watch the sky. “I don’t blame you.” He rumbles, his voice less accented not in the attuned bond, but the twists and lilts are still there. “I used to be. Back in my own world. Kind of fucked that up, though. I was forced to exile.” He admits, unable to remember if he’s told her any of his own history before when they weren’t just heated arguments. It’s in the open now, though, brow pinching a fraction as he inhales a sharp breath and turns to roll onto his side to face Wessex more fully.
“I’m sorry.” He begins with a glimmer of more understanding underlining his words. “For the position you’re in. I know it’s not the same as what I went through and I know we have had… Our arguments in the past.” This is said with a soft snort, half amused and half exhausted. “But if you want to vent to someone, I like to think I’m a good listener.” The smile that tugs on his face is softer than Wessex has probably seen, even if it tugs on the scar his father had given him in a way that warps it slightly.
the flood
i would let you d o w n
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
