Ryatah
He is after something, but she is not sure what.
She feels it when he is suddenly pressing into her space, close enough to smell the way Tephra—a scent she is all too familiar with, her home for so many years before she moved to Hyaline—clings to him. More than that though there is the strange energy that radiates from him, a thing her empathy is trying to grasp at but can’t seem to find anything tangible enough to hold onto. She has been stared at before, and is used to being studied; she did not consider herself to be anything remarkable, but even Carnage has admitted to her that he could not always predict her.
The way Gale looks at her though is unlike anything she has experienced.
He looks at her much in the way predator analyzes its prey, yet this is nothing like the cat-and-mouse game she has grown accustomed to playing over the years.
What a strange thing, to again realize that she would rather endure Carnage's anger a hundred times over than to face a devil she doesn't know.
By the time he has fully shifted she is no longer trying to pretend she is not on edge, her eyes catching the familiar tail that she recognized from Ripley and her offspring. She backs away from him, her steps slow and deliberate, and the golden glow from her halo catches the spark of fear that she struggles to keep from igniting in her eyes. “What do you want?” the question might have been blunt coming from anyone besides her, might have grown sharp with the fear that is coiling in her chest, but she has never known how to be anything other than soft. Her dark eyes try to hold his and tentatively she pushes forward a sense of calm, though she is sure the cursed creature before her either will not feel it or will lash out against it.
She feels it when he is suddenly pressing into her space, close enough to smell the way Tephra—a scent she is all too familiar with, her home for so many years before she moved to Hyaline—clings to him. More than that though there is the strange energy that radiates from him, a thing her empathy is trying to grasp at but can’t seem to find anything tangible enough to hold onto. She has been stared at before, and is used to being studied; she did not consider herself to be anything remarkable, but even Carnage has admitted to her that he could not always predict her.
The way Gale looks at her though is unlike anything she has experienced.
He looks at her much in the way predator analyzes its prey, yet this is nothing like the cat-and-mouse game she has grown accustomed to playing over the years.
What a strange thing, to again realize that she would rather endure Carnage's anger a hundred times over than to face a devil she doesn't know.
By the time he has fully shifted she is no longer trying to pretend she is not on edge, her eyes catching the familiar tail that she recognized from Ripley and her offspring. She backs away from him, her steps slow and deliberate, and the golden glow from her halo catches the spark of fear that she struggles to keep from igniting in her eyes. “What do you want?” the question might have been blunt coming from anyone besides her, might have grown sharp with the fear that is coiling in her chest, but she has never known how to be anything other than soft. Her dark eyes try to hold his and tentatively she pushes forward a sense of calm, though she is sure the cursed creature before her either will not feel it or will lash out against it.
EVEN ANGELS HAVE THEIR WICKED SCHEMES
@
Gale