Rostislav She nickers at me but doesn't move to rise. I don't mind - I'm a rather lazy SOB myself and I'm not sure I'd rise to greet anyone. (Least not a swanky beast like myself. She invites me to join her, and let's be honest, she barely need have said it for I was already thinking it. I wander to her tail end and lie down opposite her, so that we may see each other and speak easily. I'm close, but not within her personal space. A groan and a heavy this land my body on the earth, the grasses giving way to my stout form. I do this as she continues to speak, asking after me, the relic, life.... When she mentions the relic I grunt with obvious dissatisfaction. "I found a pretty looking orb.. iridescent gold, smooth all over. But that was not the relic. No, I never found the blasted.. whatever it was." After all, a relic can be just about anything. There was no way to say exactly if we found it that we'd even recognize it! I sigh and glance at her, having been staring off into the distance at nothing in particular while I spoke of the relic. Her smile softens me inside and whatever irritation I felt melts away. She's unique, lovely. Strange.. but I like it. She's a good strange. For a moment it occurs to me that maybe she is too lovely, and I wonder if she is made of tougher stuff. If there's more about her than her sweet demeanor, for that's all she's shown me. Despite the question that waltzes through my mind, I'm not put off, and find myself just as interested and curious as ever. "I've joined the Night Court, in Denocte." I comment, adding fodder to the conversation. My voice is gruff, but friendly as it can be. "And how are you?" Walk. Talk. WC: 315 Tag: @Weir Top Shelf Sexy Badass |