.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
11-11-2016, 09:13 AM
|
Rikyn
Again, the foreign tongue I have begun to assume belongs to the desert falls from her lips. Her smile, however, is pretty around the strange words, and though they leave my head reeling with the same odd, lagging sensation of processing power overtaxed, her grin itself lures me in. The barbed retorts that usually linger on the tip of my tongue for people who babble nonsense at me is removed, my own dark lips curving up with a smile of their own.
"I think you hide behind words I do not know to empower yourself," I jest, feeling my own wide grin spread across my face, unknowingly mimicking her, "do I get under your skin, Mordecai?" Duir does not approve of the joke, and his entire being tenses with worry that acid is about to course through my veins instead of blood. I, however, think differently, almost eager to rouse her temper (for some reason I cannot get a grip on). Like embers, irritation and anger makes a woman glow with a certain light, especially a warrior woman like Mordecai; the difficult task was keeping the embers at radiant peace, without bursting upwards into flame. Even if I failed to keep a blaze from rising within her, it was almost as much fun to jump over the flickering pyres, as it was to coax and then stop them from rising. I enjoyed such dangerous games, though my companion does not. I think, also, that Mordecai does, too. When she speaks of freedom, I smile, glad to have at last found the reason that I feel so drawn to her (or so I think, anyway). Our souls are both wild, untamable, seeking adventure and new conquests. The notion of schedules, rigid, unbending, constant, had driven me from the safety of my childhood home, and out into the dangerous unknown of the wilderness. So far, it had gone well enough. I’d only almost died twice, which was an accomplishment, considering many simply died all together out here. "I have lived alone for over a year now," I answer, Duir’s quiet contest rattling through my brain (what about me?! he worries from his hidden locale), "I sought freedom also, and to learn the hard way how to survive." Having been coddled for the first year of my life, and cared for further within the Nightwalk, I had found myself soft, and lacking. Volterra, for instance, had already been a hardened warrior during our match, and, while I had survived the maiming, it had been by the skin of my teeth alone. Numerous times had also arisen that I had found myself naïve to the reality of the world; it was difficult to remain an idiot if being an idiot would get you killed. So I was learning, things like scouting out an area before doing anything brash, or where the best place to not die of the elements was. I had learned to worry less about Gods, and their alleged gifts of immortality after life, and more about surviving in my day to day one. Did she know all those things, this hostile magpie called Mordecai? Why did I even care if she did? "I think I’ve become quite skilled, especially in comparison to who I was when I set out," I continue, truly believing this, though I really only know how to sneak about, or how to potentially win a brawl (or talk my way out of one) if discovered.  |
@Mordecai
