06-15-2017, 01:59 PM
If I pass this way again, you can rest assured I'll always do my best for her, of that I give my word.
A heaviness hangs all around him like a curtain, but Jah-Lilah does not recoil. She sees his scars, his missing eye, the gaunt frame, and takes it in accordingly. Clearly he's been through the ringer more than once. The universe requires balance, but sometimes it's hard to see the give and take. The silence between them is deafening, but comfortable. Some feel the need to fill the air with words at all times, but Jah-Lilah learned long ago to enjoy her own company just as much as others.
My little fireball is a wanderer. It's hard for her to be still anywhere, and she likes being nomadic. Solo-Dolo. The birds are free, the river is free, the wind is free. She feels more kindred to these things than so many creatures kept in chains, literally or metaphorically. A tiger in captivity is still just a cat in a cage. She looks at him sideways and presumes he knows more about bondage than his fair share. Her ears swivel towards him as he opens is mouth to shatter the quiet, his voice throaty and deep. She tilts her head, contemplating his words, then follows his gaze before speaking absently, "It's all in the mind, you know. Right and wrong, dark and light. Perception is everything, Three-Scars..." Her voice is soft, barely making a ripple in the air.
In a world off steel-eyed death and men fighting to be warm, "Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."
A heaviness hangs all around him like a curtain, but Jah-Lilah does not recoil. She sees his scars, his missing eye, the gaunt frame, and takes it in accordingly. Clearly he's been through the ringer more than once. The universe requires balance, but sometimes it's hard to see the give and take. The silence between them is deafening, but comfortable. Some feel the need to fill the air with words at all times, but Jah-Lilah learned long ago to enjoy her own company just as much as others.
My little fireball is a wanderer. It's hard for her to be still anywhere, and she likes being nomadic. Solo-Dolo. The birds are free, the river is free, the wind is free. She feels more kindred to these things than so many creatures kept in chains, literally or metaphorically. A tiger in captivity is still just a cat in a cage. She looks at him sideways and presumes he knows more about bondage than his fair share. Her ears swivel towards him as he opens is mouth to shatter the quiet, his voice throaty and deep. She tilts her head, contemplating his words, then follows his gaze before speaking absently, "It's all in the mind, you know. Right and wrong, dark and light. Perception is everything, Three-Scars..." Her voice is soft, barely making a ripple in the air.
In a world off steel-eyed death and men fighting to be warm, "Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."
someday, we will foresee obstacles