She lets the wind sweep between his words, a ghoulish whisper against the rustling of leaves and gentle sway of shrubbery. Her blue eyes do not leave the deep gold-flecked gaze, only calmly blinking with no other movement but her breathing. He cannot be read like everyone else, it seems. His details are not plucked so easily from his canvas and his enigmatic eyes are veiled by a vault of something she does not possess the key to.
Kota’s refined head tilts to one side; curious.
“You,” her voice is smooth like warm cream. “…vodun.” Her accent is ancient and only applied to this one word. She watches him, wondering if he could feel its meaning. He most likely isn’t familiar, but the definition isn’t important.
Like me,
..you are a ghost.
Kota
those great whites,
they have big teeth
@[magnus]
<3
