Mm, yet here I am.
Why it was that those words exactly gave him pause, the quicksilver Crow does not know. Yet he cannot resolve the fact that he lingers, his eyes trailing over where the water darkens her skin to blood black – crow black. A shiver slides along his skin and it is not from the cold of the river, nor the contrasting heat of the sun. It is something else, something deeper. Something he fears, but known has lingered within him for so long. It is familiar. It is her.
He pushes thoughts of her from his mind, but as readily as water cannot be fully contained, so the thoughts of her will only slip back in. Rhoswen follows him and it is only when her buckets snag upon a branch that she dives downstream to catch them. She is lithe through the water and again Raum finds himself wondering why the waters so readily accept this girl of flame and smoke.
Hell is other people.
The Crow smirks, lips curling into a sly half-smile at her words. “Hmm, you always were a pleasure.” He says sarcastically, although the smile has yet to fade from his argent lips. “But I do not disagree with you.” He follows her up the bank, water sloughing from his skin, leaving it gleaming dark like granite. The Denocte boy draws level with her slender body, eyes trailing her curves. “I just think the Solterran people are the worst.” His voice is a lions purr, as provocative as a knife across her skin. Like a cat, he toys with her. Raum knows she is no defenseless mouse, but a lioness, with claws and teeth that have more than once known his blood.
He draws nearer to her, buckets chinking, his lips finding the slant of her damp shoulder. His touch lingers, indulgent, dangerous before he murmurs against her skin, “Careful Rhoswen, I might think you are concerned for me.”
@Rhoswen <3 <3
Why it was that those words exactly gave him pause, the quicksilver Crow does not know. Yet he cannot resolve the fact that he lingers, his eyes trailing over where the water darkens her skin to blood black – crow black. A shiver slides along his skin and it is not from the cold of the river, nor the contrasting heat of the sun. It is something else, something deeper. Something he fears, but known has lingered within him for so long. It is familiar. It is her.
He pushes thoughts of her from his mind, but as readily as water cannot be fully contained, so the thoughts of her will only slip back in. Rhoswen follows him and it is only when her buckets snag upon a branch that she dives downstream to catch them. She is lithe through the water and again Raum finds himself wondering why the waters so readily accept this girl of flame and smoke.
Hell is other people.
The Crow smirks, lips curling into a sly half-smile at her words. “Hmm, you always were a pleasure.” He says sarcastically, although the smile has yet to fade from his argent lips. “But I do not disagree with you.” He follows her up the bank, water sloughing from his skin, leaving it gleaming dark like granite. The Denocte boy draws level with her slender body, eyes trailing her curves. “I just think the Solterran people are the worst.” His voice is a lions purr, as provocative as a knife across her skin. Like a cat, he toys with her. Raum knows she is no defenseless mouse, but a lioness, with claws and teeth that have more than once known his blood.
He draws nearer to her, buckets chinking, his lips finding the slant of her damp shoulder. His touch lingers, indulgent, dangerous before he murmurs against her skin, “Careful Rhoswen, I might think you are concerned for me.”
@Rhoswen <3 <3
![[Image: x341oLX.png]](https://i.imgur.com/x341oLX.png)
You're one microscopic cog
in his catastrophic plan
in his catastrophic plan
