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graasvoel
The gargantuan stallion greeted her affirmation of his ‘flesh and blood’ and roaming gaze with an easy, lopsided, and roguish grin—gladly meeting the gaze she tentatively (or uncertainly) rested on his stark white face. However, the heat from his gaze and his grin faded slightly as she shut down his next question (about her ghost) with a simple and vague non-answer.
His heavy skull cocked slightly, beard swaying in the crisp air, “’Mere acquaintances?” his rough voice rumbled around the words that parroted her phrase, “Perhaps we could be more than that.” Again, rather swiftly, a heat flashed through his sharp, red and yellow gaze, before it cooled. He didn’t want to scare the gilded woman off, her accent is too alluring and her golden skin appeared too soft. So he let the ghost pass out of the conversation, moving onto her next question.
“Indeed, I am Korofi. From the plateaus of Dorobo, far, far from here,” he gestures vaguely in a direction (entirely unknowing if it was the correct way or not), glad that the woman is continuing to humor him with conversation. Slowly, he shifted closer to her as the Tree’s warmth faded slightly as the evening wore on. “And you? That accent, alluring as it is, is not from Helovia,” again, he grinned lopsidedly at her, gaze lingering on her gold lips as he complimented her accent, before returning to her warm mahogany eyes.
His heavy skull cocked slightly, beard swaying in the crisp air, “’Mere acquaintances?” his rough voice rumbled around the words that parroted her phrase, “Perhaps we could be more than that.” Again, rather swiftly, a heat flashed through his sharp, red and yellow gaze, before it cooled. He didn’t want to scare the gilded woman off, her accent is too alluring and her golden skin appeared too soft. So he let the ghost pass out of the conversation, moving onto her next question.
“Indeed, I am Korofi. From the plateaus of Dorobo, far, far from here,” he gestures vaguely in a direction (entirely unknowing if it was the correct way or not), glad that the woman is continuing to humor him with conversation. Slowly, he shifted closer to her as the Tree’s warmth faded slightly as the evening wore on. “And you? That accent, alluring as it is, is not from Helovia,” again, he grinned lopsidedly at her, gaze lingering on her gold lips as he complimented her accent, before returning to her warm mahogany eyes.
the vulture feeds while it can
until there's no trace left of man
until there's no trace left of man
@Yael
Please tag Graasvoel in all posts.
