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He’s playing! Africa’s thin black lips peeled back from her off-white teeth into an expanding grin, if only momentarily. The obliviousness of her carefree nature allowed her to remain unmoved by the sinister grip of his shadowy, outstanding green stare. They were each playing the role of a character in her make-believe world- she the faultless, valiant hero; and he the menacing criminal, borne of feeble hearted nightmares; and he seemed to fulfil the position effortlessly. In the same second, she danced with giddy enthusiasm on the spot as though with spring-jointed knees, the exciting progression of the game with this new addition quite overbearing as it were.
“Wait, wait that’s ok...” Soothing quickly, interrupting when he spoke, not entirely understanding his broken attempt to introduce his true identity. Still bopping beneath the drenched flap of her thick grey hair, she reached in an attempt to tap the jagged white which stained the flaccid, curve of his nostril. Water dribbled from his tapering muzzle like a spout. The sound of his deep voice was demonic, gruesome even, she thought pleased still further by his effort to act the part she had allocated him, and arched her neck all the more to settle back into the play.
“Only murderer." He seemed to continue, despite her insisting the game continue without his input. With a tolerant sigh, she peered across at him from beneath the shining rim of her make-believe armour. “Technically, a murderer is still a villain. But if that’s what you prefer...” Obligingly, Africa shuffled forward to nuzzle the debris she had sprinkled across his ebony back, away. “Murderers are deviants dressed in black, they don’t wear chain mail...” She explained as she worked casually within his personal space. There wasn’t much costume to add because he was already clothed quite appropriately in the darkest of immoral blacks. She paused, murmuring something beneath her breath, then added quickly with a glower- “They have horns too...”
Put off at the thought of having to create him into a Unicorn, Africa glanced pensively at her prisoner- still trapped and perhaps even drowning beneath the rock where she had initially stood.
“I don’t suppose you want to help me take it home? They always struggle and writhe.” Returning her pale yellow eyes to investigate the stallion’s expression Africa smiled again. Having shed her pretend variation of Midas’s armour, she was able to view him more clearly and she was immediately surprised that while the rest of her fantasy had evaporated, he still appeared intent to act out his character all suited up and menacing. Innocently she neglected to recognize him as a threat though, and remained fairly content as he lingered in her company.
When he started circling her, Africa frowned. Still the rain poured about them, and she shivered again, generating heat as best she could, given the wretched state of the weather. “Sooo...” She began, following the almost predatory nature of his movements with narrowing eyes. “What are you doing all the way out here anyway?” Based on first impressions she presumed he most probably lived in a cave deep within a forest or somewhere equally as dark, dank and uninviting. She thought as he continued that he seemed to lack social grace. There was certainly something unsettling lurking within those creepy green eyes.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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[O] It's Raining, It's Pouring [Shajake]
