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12-02-2014, 01:41 AM
Sikeax Turn everything off And just cover your neck Cause life is full of your regrets | ||
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Silence makes her fidget, the time that inches, scrapes, drags a lifeless corpse across the wooden floor that makes her dread everything in meeting strangers strangles her. Yet with practice, she's learn to control the fidgetting enough that it is not obvious to the face of strangers, leave for the black angel above the Dragon's Throat. A chocolate shaded tail tosses and swats at the souls of frozen flies that died when the first snows came, nostrils widen with heavier breaths that raise the size of her chest. No advance has been given towards her, but she can't shake that feeling that comes with the unknown. All she wants is to be brave again, but that's a fairy tale with this world. Once open-mouthed to each side, swiveling to meet the sounds of whatever could be in the distance, what words that seap from his lips bring them forward. They burst like sparks in attentiveness, ever cautious. Deep down, she makes a connection, seeing that she is out here, alone of all things(which was more of a beautiful diamond inside of an iron maiden jewelry box), looking for dead people of all things. The past was dead, but Sikeax was there with every passing day trying to perform CPR to bring it back. The question draws her from mental pain and the acceptance she's trying to form over a sudden realization. "I'm looking for dead people and dead things." There wasn't much more to say while her gaze remained locked onto him, ears relaxing from their tense state to soothe some nerves. A pair of eyes and a face turns to see her, awakening the features of her facade and giving them up so that she doesn't seem as tired as she is. Pushing through the snow to come this far out has weared her down more than she had expected, but that nothing more than forgetting what a challenge it was to face the North. That filly had died and morphed in the present state. "I thought you were one of them, but there's strong differences between the two of you." Whoever he happened to be, he wasn't who she had wanted. She wanted Adrixaura, and that wasn't anyone existing. Dark blues generate something in her soul that doesn't have a name, something dark like the shades in the shadows of his face. Snorting, he deepens that feeling on his own. While locked away, something moves him, jerking her head upwards and rolling whites forth. She'd been watching too closely as normal, too intent on assuring there wasn't a pair of snapping jaws going for the kill at the throat. A second's turn makes her a pawn in searching out more strangers, probably as there is no name added to whom they're to seek. Yet when he starts to move away, her legs lock into position and refuse to budge, pale, young eyes watching him leave in hope that this isn't what finally does the deed of dead. Her knees do finally give way, unbuckling from her stance to tell her to go ahead and try to follow, instinct whispering enticements of how she can turn tail and bolt for the Arch(or the nearest cliff) to freedom. Slowly, she begins to trace his steps, pushing through the snow til breaks way to the path he has broken through. OOC: Sounds like another name for a case of Chronic 35 year old virgin to me. images | ||
