[mature] Castle on the hill || Celest ||

[Wolfbane]

WOLFBANE

Long ago, someone had shoved a rather pointy stick up this one’s rear end and to this day, it seems like she’s grown rather fond of that feeling. The hideaway mare is subtle as a cobra, silk covering daggers. As if her petty goading could hurt him, or as if by enticing him into anger, she might lead him to open what little reserve he had left for strangers. As his somewhat muffled feet take him in no particular direction, Wolfbane wonders where she’s learned such a defense mechanism from.

In his holding back she feels strong enough to spill more, a rancid slur of name-calling nearly convincing the Loessian that he’s come across an original inhabitant. Some were bound to be lurking of their own free will, unobservant to changes in titles or rulership. Maybe that’s why she seems so exaggerated over his coming here. Maybe he’s spoiled something by finding her out. “I assume you do that a lot.” He affirms, slipping unseen between the identical trunks, “Make mistakes.”

When she closes her eyes, he reappears. Bane still sees and faces her clearly, eye-to-eye, but a good distance between them has been reestablished. He looks far off, a much smaller version of himself framed between two upright columns of poplar. “You’re getting close to making one right now.” The brute concludes, watching her lids pop open again.

Revulsion coils in his gut at her overall expression of barbaric hostily. “So eager to destruct.”

|| The Pirate Lord of Loess ||

@[Celest]