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06-01-2017, 11:36 AM
Well, look at this, I think to myself, approaching Deimos’ tomb to find none other than Wessex, looking as if she’s just battled her way through a field of thorns. Wondering who could have possibly been the last to come through that way with an amused smile, I pick up my pace, Duir hurrying along behind me. Laughing as I come up, but in a good natured way, at least as far as I’m concerned, I’m (somewhat) secretly glad to see her coming up the foolish one for once, instead of me. I’ll try not to rub it in too much. I, unlike Wessex, had been bleeding quite profusely after the conclusion of our match, and had sought out the healers; I’m also sure that I’m a bit physically vainer than she is, to boot, albeit only slightly, my eternally tangled mane a testament, and the thought of those scars covering up my more attractive ones was slightly offensive. Regardless, I’m mended entirely and feeling quite well when I come upon the battered Corporal, and eye her remaining marks, as well as the new, slight gouges left by thorny branches, with a smirk that tails after my laughter, as I close the distance with a jaunty trot. "What did you fight them for, Wessex?" I chuckle with a quirked brow and impish grin, as Duir moves forward to help her removes the vines (being far more compassionate, and thereby inherently more helpful than I am), "most people just avoid them and use these modern things called roads."  |
@Wessex
