mourn, and mourn, and mourn
for where we stand, gravity persists
for where we stand, gravity persists
"S
talking is not the way to initiate a relationship or lack thereof with another.” I advise placidly. I know I sound like a glacier beginning to move, not melt, but lurch dangerously into the water, hiding the mass of me and ready to sink a ship, but I cannot help it. Some people, I know very well, were never raised with manners and the likes of polite society. They really should have been. Honestly. Following like a dog is lowly. A menace.
She’d be better off practicing her wit rather than the simper on her face now.
Of course, I do not say this, I cannot. A Dumas does not demean an belittle another in such bold and rude a way, no matter how many skins I slice open with my horn on a battlefield, only my wit will slice another off. Her steps slow and stop, and with them I allow myself a moment to pause as well. ”You should start with a name, not an apology. Do not lower your head, you are not beat.”
My brow is lifted as I glance to her, turning ever so slightly with nary so much as a huff of displeasure.
"I am Sofia,” ever so slightly my head dips down. I owe her nothing lower than that.
{ @Willoughby "speaks" notes: <3 }
