05-21-2021, 02:02 PM
@[Reave]
wu
go ahead and say death is a thief
When one is alone, it is far too easy to stare your shortcomings in the eye. At first, you skirt around them like a nervous little thing. But as time ebbs and flows, there’s no where to look but directly at them. Afterall, isn’t that why Wu had condemned himself to the forest? Are his shortcomings not boiled right into his blood - the divide of true and evil? Whereas some cannot stand still to save face, others are crippled and unmoving in the face of it. How ironic should two souls be, staring back at one another - one who feared to move elsewhere due to his shortcomings, and the other who could not stay still.
This man is so easy to emotion, Wu thinks, as a grin appears on the stallion's face. It is uncharacteristically beautiful in the face of all his gore and might. One question, and this painted man can so easily shift into an easy smile, an amused brow, a playful banter. How strange, how strange. It is almost breathtaking to see another's' features shift so easily, after the faces of the fauna. His words lilt off his tongue, smooth and simple, without a hesitancy or questioning. To Wu, it was almost as easy as speaking with the birds, only this time they spoke back.
And as true as told, all good things must come to an end. That easy smile is soon replaced with something less so sure, something more concerned. How strange, how strange- rolling quickly from happy.. to sad? Of course, as all unsane men know, emotions are not so simple. Wu did not shift through emotions at anothers will or words, simply because he never had to. Each smile or frown or cry or laugh came from what was inside his own little world. But this man before him, Wu could affect. Wu could make him smile, make him frown. It was like the forest- like bolting through the brush of the woods and scattering each soul, or creeping quietly along to coexist.
Again, just as quickly - the frown is replaced with a laugh and a coy look. He is all movement - his face, his eyes, his feet. He is like the flighty birds, the ones who hop from branch to branch, who quirk their head this way and that, who scream at Wu when he comes too close, and call when he is too far. But birds do not bleed like this- and Wu’s gaze follows the rivulets that fall down his shoulders.
“I don’t mean to be riddles.” His eyes do not leave, but cross the mountains of muscle with the path of blood. “Wu.” He says distractedly, finally pulling his gaze from the path of red and slowly back to the man before him. “I would enjoy an Elsewhere.” It was too open here- the voices of others carrying easily to him, the land stretching clear and unguarded. “Take me.” His eyes dilated, staring directly at Reave- his words more certain than any he’d spoke thus far (almost demanding) - anywhere but here.
This man is so easy to emotion, Wu thinks, as a grin appears on the stallion's face. It is uncharacteristically beautiful in the face of all his gore and might. One question, and this painted man can so easily shift into an easy smile, an amused brow, a playful banter. How strange, how strange. It is almost breathtaking to see another's' features shift so easily, after the faces of the fauna. His words lilt off his tongue, smooth and simple, without a hesitancy or questioning. To Wu, it was almost as easy as speaking with the birds, only this time they spoke back.
And as true as told, all good things must come to an end. That easy smile is soon replaced with something less so sure, something more concerned. How strange, how strange- rolling quickly from happy.. to sad? Of course, as all unsane men know, emotions are not so simple. Wu did not shift through emotions at anothers will or words, simply because he never had to. Each smile or frown or cry or laugh came from what was inside his own little world. But this man before him, Wu could affect. Wu could make him smile, make him frown. It was like the forest- like bolting through the brush of the woods and scattering each soul, or creeping quietly along to coexist.
Again, just as quickly - the frown is replaced with a laugh and a coy look. He is all movement - his face, his eyes, his feet. He is like the flighty birds, the ones who hop from branch to branch, who quirk their head this way and that, who scream at Wu when he comes too close, and call when he is too far. But birds do not bleed like this- and Wu’s gaze follows the rivulets that fall down his shoulders.
“I don’t mean to be riddles.” His eyes do not leave, but cross the mountains of muscle with the path of blood. “Wu.” He says distractedly, finally pulling his gaze from the path of red and slowly back to the man before him. “I would enjoy an Elsewhere.” It was too open here- the voices of others carrying easily to him, the land stretching clear and unguarded. “Take me.” His eyes dilated, staring directly at Reave- his words more certain than any he’d spoke thus far (almost demanding) - anywhere but here.