He flinches as her cry and the subsequent sound of her steps runs through the silence like scissors runs through old lace. For a moment he had allowed himself the indulgence of half-closing eyes and the steady tension in his shoulders to ease; the field that spread luxuriously at the crest of his strenuous climb had begged it of him. And Skywalker, while a sudden strike to his fatalist character, had complied. His blue eyes fly open, unraveling a wintry stare. Like a blanket his prior longing for company – a mere flicker, he insists – is thrown off him, feverishly. And yet, something compels him to steady himself, to stay with his newfangled (however unwanted) company. Perhaps it is the fact that he must, at some point, socialize with the inhabitants of Helovia that wrings him out of his cloth of seclusion. Perhaps there is simply something about her loud, misdirected elation that stirs his attention. A frown sours his inelegant face while he looks at her down the length of his nose, considering the comely motley of black and white. He weighs her in the quiet but vast expanses of his mind, sipping haughtily from the cup of her beauty. For a long while he is quiet and the silence seems to gather a shadow of its own as it hangs between them, he does not bother with jovial gestures. Instead, there is something else that has caught his eye. “What’s that,” he demands unceremoniously and nods towards the gleaming trinket around her neck. A step closer, a greedy, curious gleam in his eye, Skywalker extends his long, proud neck.
The snake and the thief and the liar that he is: dangerously close, dangerously curious. Perhaps Kahlua should turn on her flying heels, back the way she came?
Perhaps she should stay, for a little while.
He smiles and a wrinkled up perdition unfurls on his bitter lips, “come here, and let me have a look.”
S K Y W A L K E R.
WC: 326
OOC: I don't mind being tagged. Hope you don't mind him being nosy about her amulet.
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