Rainforest Cliffs
07-17-2017, 01:41 PM
Finding her anger somewhat annoying but amusing all in one abrupt change of her expression, I lift my head arrogantly, looking down at her with a smirk that reads “well aren’t you just stuck in denial.” Maybe it’s cold, but, honestly, the Gods are dead. All that is left is this Kaos guy, surely the only reason they hadn’t exploded, and the notion of throwing away any form of potential aid in a world like this felt more foolish than holding onto them. Besides, if this amulet was at all like the ones back home, then it contained some of Kaos, himself.
My mom may have been a crazy bitch, but she was a woman who knew things. Maybe it came from a life lived in a magical place, or maybe it was just that she’d gone out of her way to learn these things, but if she was to be believed, a name and blood were about the most tying things a person could give another. It gave them power over you. It was why I liked to lie about being Calor, or Dristan; it was why, I reminded myself, I still needed to learn to be someone else a little better.
Due to reply, I’m distracted by the feather she wears, dark tendrils seeming to pour from it. Sidestepping away to disallow them to graze me, I swat at their reach with my horn, annoyance writ on my face.
“What the fuck?” I question, not for the first time since coming to this land; it seems like everything is trying to touch you here. Well, everything except the ladies. Glacia has been flatly ignoring me… Regardless, my focus only stays on the smoke as long as it takes to figure its not dangerous, before I’m looking back at Erthë, not giving a fuck about her feelings on what I decide to wear. Especially as what she decides to wear thinks it can grope me at will.
“Hair of the dog?” I say, Duir looking over at me with his brows hunkering down, his muzzle shaking ever so slightly side to side in disapproval of my disregard of Erthë’s offense, “either way, owning his shit doesn’t mean he owns me. Only whores sell out for jewelry, and we both know I’m high class.”
I flash the disgruntled, pale mare wink, perhaps an inappropriate one. My buck quietly wonders alongside me if I haven’t gone mad.
My mom may have been a crazy bitch, but she was a woman who knew things. Maybe it came from a life lived in a magical place, or maybe it was just that she’d gone out of her way to learn these things, but if she was to be believed, a name and blood were about the most tying things a person could give another. It gave them power over you. It was why I liked to lie about being Calor, or Dristan; it was why, I reminded myself, I still needed to learn to be someone else a little better.
Due to reply, I’m distracted by the feather she wears, dark tendrils seeming to pour from it. Sidestepping away to disallow them to graze me, I swat at their reach with my horn, annoyance writ on my face.
“What the fuck?” I question, not for the first time since coming to this land; it seems like everything is trying to touch you here. Well, everything except the ladies. Glacia has been flatly ignoring me… Regardless, my focus only stays on the smoke as long as it takes to figure its not dangerous, before I’m looking back at Erthë, not giving a fuck about her feelings on what I decide to wear. Especially as what she decides to wear thinks it can grope me at will.
“Hair of the dog?” I say, Duir looking over at me with his brows hunkering down, his muzzle shaking ever so slightly side to side in disapproval of my disregard of Erthë’s offense, “either way, owning his shit doesn’t mean he owns me. Only whores sell out for jewelry, and we both know I’m high class.”
I flash the disgruntled, pale mare wink, perhaps an inappropriate one. My buck quietly wonders alongside me if I haven’t gone mad.
