if you don't terrify people a little then what's the point
The response wasn’t what he’d predicted – and for a moment his face altered into a bewildered stare, piercing gaze going from her, to the shield (perhaps imagining the draconic head, teeth dripping red, and the coordinated, matching eyes), and back to her features. The reality of the deadpan notions settled soon after, and he gave an abrupt snort again, shaking his head and granting an undignified roll of his eyes. “Sounds gaudy,” and entirely unlike herself – so he matched her grin as the joke flickered by. “Maybe vines. Tree branches.” Pine needles and boughs etched onto the side, nettles, thorns, petals, rising stems; had she asked him at all for any glimmer of creative notions, he probably would’ve segmented those.
Besides, today mischief would reign, and vengeance was likely to be swift. There was no masking the grin this time, positively demonic, as she hastened to which means to an end she preferred. Either one would have sufficed; content with the merciless and ruthless wake of the incantations pulsing beneath his skin, or the wake of a weapon in his calloused hands. “Good. I can practice with the spear again then,” which might’ve been fortunate for the Evergreen – merely because he simply wasn’t as experienced with that current armament.
Though he’d been practicing.
With an aloof gaze, he took several strides away from her, breaking them apart so that they could form stances and defensive means, another level of amusement beginning its torrent from his mouth. “I will even let you keep your clothes on,” though if the tilt of his head and the weight of his eyes meant anything, he wouldn’t argue against it either. “When you are ready,” pulsed thereafter between beats of wickedness, snagging at the piercing instrument, and waiting for her preparation.
Besides, today mischief would reign, and vengeance was likely to be swift. There was no masking the grin this time, positively demonic, as she hastened to which means to an end she preferred. Either one would have sufficed; content with the merciless and ruthless wake of the incantations pulsing beneath his skin, or the wake of a weapon in his calloused hands. “Good. I can practice with the spear again then,” which might’ve been fortunate for the Evergreen – merely because he simply wasn’t as experienced with that current armament.
Though he’d been practicing.
With an aloof gaze, he took several strides away from her, breaking them apart so that they could form stances and defensive means, another level of amusement beginning its torrent from his mouth. “I will even let you keep your clothes on,” though if the tilt of his head and the weight of his eyes meant anything, he wouldn’t argue against it either. “When you are ready,” pulsed thereafter between beats of wickedness, snagging at the piercing instrument, and waiting for her preparation.
DEIMOS
