Rufio,
Sunlight glinted off of his golden chains as he walked, and for the briefest of moments, Rufio wondered if they were too heavy in such a harsh climate. Shaking away the thought, he jingled as he walked deeper into the canyon, far away from the blasted desert where the Rift had dumped him. Though the boy had been at Novus for several days now, it wasn’t home. It would never be home. A scowl crossed his face as he pressed onward, eager to get the fuck out of this desert, but finding that it stretched further than he’d care to travel. Resigned, he had simply tried to get as far away from Mors as he could, grumbling with every step, annoyed and completely over it.
Sweat gleamed along his curves, and even the wind seemed to tease and dance away again, not willing to give him respite. This place sucked sweaty balls, truly. How anyone could find beauty in the desert was beyond Rufio, for he wanted nothing more than to get away from it all, tending to now wander at night to avoid the harshness of day. Still, a part of him knew that he needed to get used to it. It was unlikely that the Rift would swoop down and pick him up again. The magic just wasn’t that kind. It was punishing him, perhaps for his years of overindulgence and selfishness in Neverland, but Rufio didn’t give a fuck… he was still pissed.
Grumbling as he pressed closer to the canyon walls in search of some shade and respite, he screamed aloud in frustration, his cry met by little more than the flapping of wings as a couple of vultures frightened away. Figured, nothing around here seemed alive anyway. Perhaps they were here to pick at his body, for surely Rufio couldn’t survive in a place like this for long. Licking his lips to moisten them, he crept onward, tired and hungry, and ever so annoyed.
In the distance, he spots her – blinking and wondering for a moment if she was an illusion. Hello? His question wasn’t so much given in kindness, more to check on his own sanity as he approached her. As he nears Eshek, something eerie washes over him, as if she didn’t belong in the land of the living – even if her coat glowed red and hot like fire, real enough to touch. He doesn’t touch her though, pausing with his breath caught in his throat as her hollow eyes catch his, afraid he might never be warm again.
What are you? His voice hovers between reverent and curious, as he waits beneath the autumn sun to know more about the stranger and her mysterious presence.
mischief managed.
@Eshek | "speaks" | notes: <3 sorry he’s an asshole
