my ears can hear my mouth can speak my spirit talks my soul believes
A stag skull mask sits in the sand, beside a pile of narrow logs.
Chaele emerges from the jungle a few yards away, a bundle of matching wood beneath their arm as they march through the sand. In the other hand is a long machete, no doubt used to gather the timber that they throw into the pile. With a sigh they take a moment to pause, to look out over the water and catch their breath. The waves hiss; the trees whisper; the gulls chatter.
In this rare moment, their face is bare-- except for the sticky layer of sweat that gladly catches the cool shoreward breezes. Carved runes pucker from their cheekbones and stretch in their chin as they yawn, but the motion is cut short by a sound that is unlike the others.
Their hand tenses on their weapon. They crouch, taking a handful of sand and smearing it over their face in a makeshift mask. Then with no other word, they search for the source of the sound.
Chaele emerges from the jungle a few yards away, a bundle of matching wood beneath their arm as they march through the sand. In the other hand is a long machete, no doubt used to gather the timber that they throw into the pile. With a sigh they take a moment to pause, to look out over the water and catch their breath. The waves hiss; the trees whisper; the gulls chatter.
In this rare moment, their face is bare-- except for the sticky layer of sweat that gladly catches the cool shoreward breezes. Carved runes pucker from their cheekbones and stretch in their chin as they yawn, but the motion is cut short by a sound that is unlike the others.
Their hand tenses on their weapon. They crouch, taking a handful of sand and smearing it over their face in a makeshift mask. Then with no other word, they search for the source of the sound.
Base code by Odd • Art by Krakenkatz
