She recognizes the urgency in his stride, the heat in his lungs, the hate in his eyes. It nearly mirrors the mother’s final moments. It reminds Skaide that she must always protect herself.
A serpent’s hiss slithers from between her clenched teeth, her exposed fangs yearning to sink into him and flood him with the same toxin that killed Shiya. If her own life is in jeopardy, she will destroy him, but Vulgaris instead reconsiders. There’s a flicker of uncertainty as he battles between destruction and forgiveness. A bold step forward inches her closer to father, and her slit pupils lift slowly to his face by tracing his arterial track. It winds from his heart to his neck. Her heart almost tangos with the beat of his own as they reflect one another. She does it in jest, a silent reminder that she is kin. How he shifts and coils beneath her stare, she does the same; everything is coordinated until Leliana rips away her attention.
The woman’s kindness is entirely unexpected, but Skaide’s hollow eyes do not soften beneath the hospitality. Silence holds her tongue as she silently and disdainfully observes. It isn’t until there is a soft rustle of grass underfoot that her gaze peels from Leliana to again regard Vulgaris. ”You forgot about me,” her voice rasps with disuse, ”You forgot about your own daughter.” She plays victim, creasing her mouth to mimic a frown even if she is not plagued by sorrow or regret. In reality, Skaide has little care for the way she was raised by the wilderness or by how the father never played a role in her upbringing. The mother told her not to love, so that must also encompass family.
But she is here to remind him, to be the thorn digging into his side and drawing blood.
She is his nightmare, his haunted past.
Still slightly closer to him, Skaide’s frown dissipates. Her expression is stoic, frozen without remorse. ”She’s dead, you know,” the projection of her voice softens as though it’s a secret, but her voice remains barbed and objective. Her eyes drift toward Leliana again, holding her there for a few heartbeats. ”Because of you,” she adds without elaborating, her attention shifting between the adults before she walks past both of them in silent acquiescence of Leliana’s offer. They will follow, she knows. They won’t let her stray from sight because they are smarter than that. They are aware of what she is.
Reaching down toward a stream, Skaide drinks a few gulps of water to sate her thirst. Her hunger remains unaddressed. Distracted from her needs, she robotically returns to the couple. ”How does it feel?” To be fools in love, to be the reason for the mother’s death and absence, to have blood on their hands. How must it feel, she wonders.
i swear i'll become your only desire. i swear i'll rip you apart.A serpent’s hiss slithers from between her clenched teeth, her exposed fangs yearning to sink into him and flood him with the same toxin that killed Shiya. If her own life is in jeopardy, she will destroy him, but Vulgaris instead reconsiders. There’s a flicker of uncertainty as he battles between destruction and forgiveness. A bold step forward inches her closer to father, and her slit pupils lift slowly to his face by tracing his arterial track. It winds from his heart to his neck. Her heart almost tangos with the beat of his own as they reflect one another. She does it in jest, a silent reminder that she is kin. How he shifts and coils beneath her stare, she does the same; everything is coordinated until Leliana rips away her attention.
The woman’s kindness is entirely unexpected, but Skaide’s hollow eyes do not soften beneath the hospitality. Silence holds her tongue as she silently and disdainfully observes. It isn’t until there is a soft rustle of grass underfoot that her gaze peels from Leliana to again regard Vulgaris. ”You forgot about me,” her voice rasps with disuse, ”You forgot about your own daughter.” She plays victim, creasing her mouth to mimic a frown even if she is not plagued by sorrow or regret. In reality, Skaide has little care for the way she was raised by the wilderness or by how the father never played a role in her upbringing. The mother told her not to love, so that must also encompass family.
But she is here to remind him, to be the thorn digging into his side and drawing blood.
She is his nightmare, his haunted past.
Still slightly closer to him, Skaide’s frown dissipates. Her expression is stoic, frozen without remorse. ”She’s dead, you know,” the projection of her voice softens as though it’s a secret, but her voice remains barbed and objective. Her eyes drift toward Leliana again, holding her there for a few heartbeats. ”Because of you,” she adds without elaborating, her attention shifting between the adults before she walks past both of them in silent acquiescence of Leliana’s offer. They will follow, she knows. They won’t let her stray from sight because they are smarter than that. They are aware of what she is.
Reaching down toward a stream, Skaide drinks a few gulps of water to sate her thirst. Her hunger remains unaddressed. Distracted from her needs, she robotically returns to the couple. ”How does it feel?” To be fools in love, to be the reason for the mother’s death and absence, to have blood on their hands. How must it feel, she wonders.
Skaide
@[vulgaris] @[leliana]