wolves in our own skin, we're savages.
And yet here he is, a part of a society that thrives on rules and regulations, that positively needs its members to follow directions to be sustainable. He is a wild card.
She can hear the screaming of the trees and plants as they are consumed by flame. She puts it down to a wildfire, although she hasn't experienced one in such weather conditions before. There's a first time for everything. With her nose firmly buried under a clump of saxifrage, she is distractedly inhaling their green scent.
She lifts her head when he appears, the stallion who stinks of smoke, accompanied by a woeful wailing of the trees around them. She looks at him wryly, an action that seems very out of place on the tresspasser. Shouldn't she be trembling for her life? Alas, she is no rabbit. She listens to his accusations with a cocked head, an amused smile on her face. "Perhaps you wouldn't be so worried about food if you didn't burn it all down,"
"You probably shouldn't threaten me unless you'd like to see yourself as an eunuch by the end of the week," she says, with that same calm, collected, playful expression. This one was interesting, she decides, with his blood hot as fire and powers to match.
At his next words she smiles and takes a step closer. Of course, it's no mystery to anyone, he stinks of smoke and the brambles had been screaming for hours. No, he's not fooling anyone but it's fun to play along. "Are you always this mysterious?" she says, her voice succulent, honey-sweet. "Or is that especially for the big bad trespasser?"
DÁ
She can hear the screaming of the trees and plants as they are consumed by flame. She puts it down to a wildfire, although she hasn't experienced one in such weather conditions before. There's a first time for everything. With her nose firmly buried under a clump of saxifrage, she is distractedly inhaling their green scent.
She lifts her head when he appears, the stallion who stinks of smoke, accompanied by a woeful wailing of the trees around them. She looks at him wryly, an action that seems very out of place on the tresspasser. Shouldn't she be trembling for her life? Alas, she is no rabbit. She listens to his accusations with a cocked head, an amused smile on her face. "Perhaps you wouldn't be so worried about food if you didn't burn it all down,"
"You probably shouldn't threaten me unless you'd like to see yourself as an eunuch by the end of the week," she says, with that same calm, collected, playful expression. This one was interesting, she decides, with his blood hot as fire and powers to match.
At his next words she smiles and takes a step closer. Of course, it's no mystery to anyone, he stinks of smoke and the brambles had been screaming for hours. No, he's not fooling anyone but it's fun to play along. "Are you always this mysterious?" she says, her voice succulent, honey-sweet. "Or is that especially for the big bad trespasser?"