// the past is just a bridge we burned down behind us
when we left this town, running from the blinding heat //
when we left this town, running from the blinding heat //
The pouting of her bottom lip is something he sees straight through as if it were nothing but a clear window on a sunny day, a snort leaving him without answering it in favor for the comment of her having more enjoyment of watching him train rather than being a part of it. And when she asks how soon, well, a smirk blooms on his face. “Oh, I don’t know. Soon as we get back maybe?” He poses the question as innocently as possible, meeting her side eye with his own, precisely to see the way his comment of his scars makes her nose wrinkle.
It doesn’t bother him much these days, but he knows that it’s not so much the scars themselves but what they represent. A threat of sorts, that no matter what you did to him, he still remained, skin a gnarled mess of raised scar tissue breaking through the typical tan lines. But that’s neither here nor there because his grin turns something akin to his not-so-tempered down feral edge of his dragon shift. “You trust me, right?” He asks, knowing it’s a rhetorical question, because of course she does.
They wouldn’t be here if she didn’t.
So he reaches out to take her arm, hand shifting to the talons of that very same black dragon, slicing a small line on her arm up by her elbow, watching for a moment as a thin red line bubbles to the surface, and while he holds her he commands more water – this time a rain cloud amongst the otherwise clear and beautiful day, shifting so that the water from the sky he’s created can reach the cut and knit it back together before their eyes, disappearing as if it weren’t even there to begin with. “There, all better.”
It doesn’t bother him much these days, but he knows that it’s not so much the scars themselves but what they represent. A threat of sorts, that no matter what you did to him, he still remained, skin a gnarled mess of raised scar tissue breaking through the typical tan lines. But that’s neither here nor there because his grin turns something akin to his not-so-tempered down feral edge of his dragon shift. “You trust me, right?” He asks, knowing it’s a rhetorical question, because of course she does.
They wouldn’t be here if she didn’t.
So he reaches out to take her arm, hand shifting to the talons of that very same black dragon, slicing a small line on her arm up by her elbow, watching for a moment as a thin red line bubbles to the surface, and while he holds her he commands more water – this time a rain cloud amongst the otherwise clear and beautiful day, shifting so that the water from the sky he’s created can reach the cut and knit it back together before their eyes, disappearing as if it weren’t even there to begin with. “There, all better.”
the flood
// of our disaster when we left this town
you can rely on me, i will always let you down //
you can rely on me, i will always let you down //
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.
