REXANNA
paint my spirit gold
The events of what transpired with the Spire Demon and the Outlander group that set out to destroy it, still had her reeling a bit. The more she tried to contemplate it, the more frustrated and angry she became. With how it happened, how it ended, how she became the target when she’d done nothing but stand next to someone she had thought of as a friend. And then grown angrier when Deimos’ own questions had gone unanswered, level headed and important in their own rights. It was as she was returning to the Domiciles, heading somewhere (she didn’t know where yet, perhaps a place to scream into the abyss like under the bone bridge), when she came across Deimos outside of his home.She waited for a moment as he stacked wood, watching him briefly before deciding to approach. She didn’t have a smile this time, and her words weren’t laced with any innuendo or flirtatious tones. And the way the morning sun hit her skin was full of radiance in a way that made her appear as though some kind of frustrated, angry version of a god. But she didn’t know, instead her sapphire gaze was focused on Deimos and the anger from within her and the
And while Deimos might not have been the best target for it, the man she knew was a man of little words, but they had always been needed. Calming. True. She came up to him with a small wave and looked to the pile of wood. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” She asked him, for the first time being blunt in her life – no small hello’s and chit chat, nonsense to waste away the day before getting to the nitty gritty. “I want to talk about it.” She said with a huff of a laugh, but she wasn’t certain if it was actual humor or a huff of frustration.
