09-08-2021, 03:25 PM
BUT I HOPE I NEVER LOSE THE BRUISES THAT YOU LEFT BEHIND
She can’t help the short laugh in her throat when he mentions that his children did not share the same unique eye color as herself, her dark lips twisting into a smile. “I don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone with an eye color quite like mine, not even my siblings.” Among the five other full siblings that she shared, the newest twin girls would be the closest, with that lovely rose-gold shade they boasted, but still nothing close to the vivid pink of hers. As if the strange white markings splattered across her black coat was not enough. She would never be the kind that could simply blend in, even if her colors were not as bright and flashy as some. The stark, almost chaotic way the white collided with the black always seemed to draw their attention, and the pair of bright pink eyes seemed to hold it.
“I could not shift until I was an adult, so I am not sure if I was born or made,” she tells him, though there is a strange sort of guardedness to the way she speaks of it, as if she did not want to go into detail. She hated admitting how much it bothered her as a child that she could not shift, when all she had wanted was something that marked her as being a daughter of Atrox. She does not know what changed, or what took so long for her to be able to tap into this part of herself, but she is grateful to have finally found it. “I’m just glad I can do it at all,” is the only glimmer of her authentic feelings that she lets slip.
“Ledger,” she echoes his name back to him with a small nod, and though she notices the scars on his face and the eye socket that sits empty, she does not ask. She has seen her mother in a similar state, and had learned quickly it was best to not ask questions (in that case it was her mother’s seemingly lack of trauma surrounding the situation that had unnerved her). Her attention shifts from him and back to herself, and his question causes her to tense. “Yes,” is her short answer, and there is a moment where it appears that is all she will say. She has not actually used her antlers since the day she had earned them; the day she had found herself on a battlefield she was not looking for, and had been forced to fight a clone of Voracious, and then of herself. “I try not to, though. I already learned the damage they can do.”
“I could not shift until I was an adult, so I am not sure if I was born or made,” she tells him, though there is a strange sort of guardedness to the way she speaks of it, as if she did not want to go into detail. She hated admitting how much it bothered her as a child that she could not shift, when all she had wanted was something that marked her as being a daughter of Atrox. She does not know what changed, or what took so long for her to be able to tap into this part of herself, but she is grateful to have finally found it. “I’m just glad I can do it at all,” is the only glimmer of her authentic feelings that she lets slip.
“Ledger,” she echoes his name back to him with a small nod, and though she notices the scars on his face and the eye socket that sits empty, she does not ask. She has seen her mother in a similar state, and had learned quickly it was best to not ask questions (in that case it was her mother’s seemingly lack of trauma surrounding the situation that had unnerved her). Her attention shifts from him and back to herself, and his question causes her to tense. “Yes,” is her short answer, and there is a moment where it appears that is all she will say. She has not actually used her antlers since the day she had earned them; the day she had found herself on a battlefield she was not looking for, and had been forced to fight a clone of Voracious, and then of herself. “I try not to, though. I already learned the damage they can do.”
A I S L Y N
@Ledger
