| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
The mare’s attempt at snatching a feather had been unsuccessful, and had also gone unnoticed on Murdock’s part. He had noted as he approached her through the stream that she was a different sort of creature. He had been met with a blank stare as he first sought her gaze and his words seemed to slip past her mind as if unregistered or simply ignored. Her mouth, of course, was yet another matter of interest. From his present place on dry land, where he stood shivering and quite uncomfortably wet, he reluctantly let his eyes settle on the jagged curve of her mouth once more.
Would it be rude to ask what happened to her? My God, what happened to your face? he could ask, donning an innocent expression to make it seem like the harmless question he wanted it to be. But that would likely not elicit a pleasant response from her. Besides, with a smile like that, he was hardly sure he wanted to risk getting on her bad side; there was no telling how such a frightful appearance had been bestowed upon her. From her blank stare to the visible bumps of her ribs, she seemed the embodiment of fear and danger.
His words, the many he spoke as he attempted to make companionable conversation, seemed to dissolve in thin air as if they had never been uttered. All he received from her was a slightly wild and almost vacant stare, her haunting amber eyes holding his gaze steadily. She was the type his mother would have told him to watch out for. Though her very appearance seemed to scream ‘bad news’, he was only drawn to her by childlike curiosity that had stuck with him through his adolescent years. No matter how many times he had been told to ‘grow up’, the suggestion had been waved off along with all the others.
His question went unanswered as well, hanging in the air like the vapor of his breath for a moment before seeming to be dismissed. She did not even pause to consider it, nor give the impression that she had given his words some thought; instead, she finally opened her mouth to speak. Her voice was not the haunting, cracking tone that one might expect from a creature of her visage, but it was smooth and somewhat eerie all the same. Murdock paused for a moment, taken aback by her question and visibly confused.
“I’m sorry, how many…what?” He asked dubiously, tipping his head to the side slightly to match her posture. Her orange gaze was fixed on his face once more, but earlier it had been focused on his wings that had remained folded at his sides, dripping icy stream water from his pale feathers. He had payed it no mind, though. Perhaps she, like many others, had been drawn to the dull green glow that radiated from the tip of each white feather. Though their interaction had so far been mainly one-sided, he had grown uneasy in her presence as if some energy in the air was telling him to run. Perhaps it was the way the shadows shrouded her sharp face, or the way the glow of the tree-lights played off her inky coat. Regardless, he swallowed the creeping fear and raised a brow, hoping she would elaborate before eating him alive with that jagged mouth of hers.
"talk talk talk"
If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?
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Image Credit
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