Rhonen holds her attentions initially, the sunken in eyes watching and her ears pointed forward through the mess of spidery-black hair. His scowl, she sees it, and she knows it: mistrust and uneasiness, and the motion of his body mirrors that of those she dreamed of before… of those who are long passed. Silence renders between them as in a slow gesture the creatures head moves and looks to Noah, those teal eyes narrowing only for seconds as contemplation dawns on her face. Yidhra speaks, but her tone is softer now, and though she still carries depth and rasp to her voice… an eerie harmony begins to make its way into every word.
“This is not the first land to be raised from the abyss or its depths” she pauses, her fixation on Noah growing and a weak smile draws on the skeletal creatures lips. “I saw barnacles stuck to trees, and coral buried into earth and rock. Brackish holes with algae where the water has grown stagnant, and the corpses of leviathans rotting anew beneath the sun. Two or three hundred years ago another land rose like this one’ but not here in Beqanna.” for a moment she grows silent, shuddering and wincing as if in pain.
With closed eyes she flinches and frets, coughing for moments and muscles spasming beneath the skeletal wreck and ruined flesh. She spits blood onto the ground, reddened and black: her breathing only stabilizing after a moment; but she maintains all distance. “Pressure sickness.” she speaks frankly. “Worry not for contamination, it only comes if you walk as I have… in the vast trenches where the bones of giants have becoming dreaming cities.” her shoulders roll back, shrug, and Yidhra draws up to her full stature.
Tilting her head she looks at the both with little to no emotion, only intrigue and curiosity glimmering in her eyes, in her thoughts. “It is a pleasure to meet you Rhonen and Noah, pray tell what has brought you to these lands- is it this God-Mage? Again, I apologize if this is intrusive; but I have long forgotten the societal pleasantries of our kind. We are much nicer, much more formal at times than the cradling teeth and gnawing whispers of the ones below.”
Lacking hesitation she smiled, faintly and warmly: with her posture so elegantly shifted to hide the ugly curves of bones and skin, of weakness and time.
Yidhra
@[Rhonen] ooc: nah its cool, this is just a weirdening. I love them.