To hold my tongue except when I try to pray...
Warmth. It was the first thing he noticed when the space was abruptly filled by anoteher body joining the marching crowd. Reinhart almost ignored her, almost. She had to speak to him. She had to cause his panic to spike. Silver-tongued. She hissed like a poised cobra, or perhaps he was identifying monsters where there were spaces available to be occupied. given enough time, she might have just given it to you, you know? She presses him, and Reinhart casts a sidelong glance toward her. His golden eyes were beginning to swirl with the rising panic he began to feel. She had seen him steal the scarf from the vendor. "There's not an ounce of me that is made of silver, I don't know what you're talking about." Reinhart denied her claim that he had a silver-tongue. He would acknowledge he might be slightly more charismatic than the average individual, but he had always attributed that to his noble upbringing. An upbringing he could only escape by disappearing into the depths of another court.
He did not feel the pull of his magic, he was oblivious to it. A magician who was at the whim of his power as it threatened to consume him. He cast a glance at her again before he broke from the crowd. Reinhart narrowed his eyes at her, silently he challenged her to follow him. He noticed the sudden aversion from the crowd, as they bowed around him as though he were a great boulder in their stream. His magic encouraged them to avoid him. Reinhart felt only the turbulence of his emotional currents as they got swept away. He did not move from the place he stood, where he had pulled himself out of the swathes of bodies. The woman had a cage wrapped around her throat, and cream wings tucked to her sides. He leered at her, and the magic swirled in his eyes as he stared at her. Reinhart could not convince her that she had not seen him make away with a finely crafted scarf. He could not let her get away with her claims of being a silver-tongue. He was quick on his feet, and nothing more. Before they became islands in a sea of moving bodies, before he disengaged the crowd completely he turned to her. "I think you've made grand assumptions about someone you know nothing about." He allowed his venom to seep out toward her.
Reinhart was not used to a confrontation that he could not avoid. He turned away from her, and the crowd and dove into the shadows along the wall. He did not stray too far from the sea of bodies. Reinhart waited and watched from his new position to see if she dared follow him.
He did not feel the pull of his magic, he was oblivious to it. A magician who was at the whim of his power as it threatened to consume him. He cast a glance at her again before he broke from the crowd. Reinhart narrowed his eyes at her, silently he challenged her to follow him. He noticed the sudden aversion from the crowd, as they bowed around him as though he were a great boulder in their stream. His magic encouraged them to avoid him. Reinhart felt only the turbulence of his emotional currents as they got swept away. He did not move from the place he stood, where he had pulled himself out of the swathes of bodies. The woman had a cage wrapped around her throat, and cream wings tucked to her sides. He leered at her, and the magic swirled in his eyes as he stared at her. Reinhart could not convince her that she had not seen him make away with a finely crafted scarf. He could not let her get away with her claims of being a silver-tongue. He was quick on his feet, and nothing more. Before they became islands in a sea of moving bodies, before he disengaged the crowd completely he turned to her. "I think you've made grand assumptions about someone you know nothing about." He allowed his venom to seep out toward her.
Reinhart was not used to a confrontation that he could not avoid. He turned away from her, and the crowd and dove into the shadows along the wall. He did not stray too far from the sea of bodies. Reinhart waited and watched from his new position to see if she dared follow him.
Notes: I love Cyrra so much a;lfjd. Your writing is so lovely. | Tags: @Cyrra
... try to breathe words out, But I’ve got nothing to say
