08-20-2019, 07:18 AM
We got older and I should have known
that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
Oh. Well. Weird is perhaps not the right word.
She’s insane.
Her heat form is of course, much less detailed than what he would have perceived if she were not invisible to the colour spectrum of the sunlight. It is thus that he has a hard time deciphering what exactly she spits out, but that it’s not normal for a horse is clear immediately. Upon her retraction of her far-too-elastic body part, he decides that it is indeed her tongue, and she has now literally eaten dirt. Why, or why she doesn’t spit out the gravel or seem bothered by this at all, is a total mystery.
There’s no use trying to make sense of it - neither is it to try and make any more sense of her answer than of her as a whole. He’s not quite certain why he expects her answer to make no sense and yet some - nor why he accepts it as something completely logical. But he does, and, tail swishing softly through immovability, he nods to her when she tells him about the rock and the hard place. ”How incredibly rude of him.” he concludes.
Something about her seriousness and the way that all of this is ridiculous, strikes incredibly true with him. He’s ridiculous, but he plays the game - it’s not even a conscious decision to accept what she says and does, more like something that comes natural. Following her every movement, his draconic, peripheral vision tracks the heat of her as best he can. All in all, when she asks what he’s doing here and deliberately notes his frostiness, he shrugs a little. ”Defrosting.”
She’s insane.
Her heat form is of course, much less detailed than what he would have perceived if she were not invisible to the colour spectrum of the sunlight. It is thus that he has a hard time deciphering what exactly she spits out, but that it’s not normal for a horse is clear immediately. Upon her retraction of her far-too-elastic body part, he decides that it is indeed her tongue, and she has now literally eaten dirt. Why, or why she doesn’t spit out the gravel or seem bothered by this at all, is a total mystery.
There’s no use trying to make sense of it - neither is it to try and make any more sense of her answer than of her as a whole. He’s not quite certain why he expects her answer to make no sense and yet some - nor why he accepts it as something completely logical. But he does, and, tail swishing softly through immovability, he nods to her when she tells him about the rock and the hard place. ”How incredibly rude of him.” he concludes.
Something about her seriousness and the way that all of this is ridiculous, strikes incredibly true with him. He’s ridiculous, but he plays the game - it’s not even a conscious decision to accept what she says and does, more like something that comes natural. Following her every movement, his draconic, peripheral vision tracks the heat of her as best he can. All in all, when she asks what he’s doing here and deliberately notes his frostiness, he shrugs a little. ”Defrosting.”
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Jackel]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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