05-02-2021, 07:33 PM
CrownS
Her voice is almost like a crack of thunder in the still night. He cranes his neck to see her, or at least the silhouette of what he assumes is her. Crowns considers shuffling off into the dark and finding some sort of trouble to get into, but in the end he finds himself wandering in the direction of Fechin’s voice. The lazy orbit of his fire casts a blue light across her figure that assures him this is who spoke out.
His wings shift across his back. There is still a considerable amount of space between them and he doesn’t seem inclined to close the gap just yet. It’s been so long since he encountered someone unfamiliar that he isn’t entirely sure how to go about these things anymore. Still, he offers up a gentle smile in that usual charming way of his, the dim glow of his eyes all warmth and an immature eagerness.
“I could, but I’m not feeling particularly down anymore,” he counters with a short laugh of good humor. “Does the night still make you a little uneasy, too?” He tilts his head as the question drifts from his lips and off toward her ears. Crowns does not follow up with an introduction. Instead, he takes a small step closer and the long shadows cast by his fire shift in their angles. He half expects them to twist into awful, ugly shapes and come alive like they had before, but the night remains tranquil and smooth against their skin.
“It already seems like a very long, very strange dream, to me. But I can’t quite let my guard down anyway,” he explains as his gaze roams to the endless black at the edge of his light. Despite his nerves, the smile lingers there on his lips.
His wings shift across his back. There is still a considerable amount of space between them and he doesn’t seem inclined to close the gap just yet. It’s been so long since he encountered someone unfamiliar that he isn’t entirely sure how to go about these things anymore. Still, he offers up a gentle smile in that usual charming way of his, the dim glow of his eyes all warmth and an immature eagerness.
“I could, but I’m not feeling particularly down anymore,” he counters with a short laugh of good humor. “Does the night still make you a little uneasy, too?” He tilts his head as the question drifts from his lips and off toward her ears. Crowns does not follow up with an introduction. Instead, he takes a small step closer and the long shadows cast by his fire shift in their angles. He half expects them to twist into awful, ugly shapes and come alive like they had before, but the night remains tranquil and smooth against their skin.
“It already seems like a very long, very strange dream, to me. But I can’t quite let my guard down anyway,” he explains as his gaze roams to the endless black at the edge of his light. Despite his nerves, the smile lingers there on his lips.
you got me on my knees; i'm your one-man cult.
@[Fechin]