sixwordstories | (no subject)

(no subject)

*Seems feral, unable to sit still.*

Hey, sugar. Ya seem a bit antsy.

All this energy!

I'd suggest a nice run or somethin'.

It won't help. This holiday is giving me vast amounts of energy, and the fact that my land is giving birth is adding to the effect.

*His skin seems to be shifting, showing perhaps armor patterns beneath the skin.*

[Looks confused, goes silent, unsure of what to say to..well, that]

Well?

Seems to me ya either need a good, long run or a good, long fuck. Excuse my French.

*He moves in a flash, the movement nearly unseen to the human eye. In the space of the moment it takes to blink, he is in front of her, his eyes showing a feral madness.*

Running would not help, and I would break you if I attempted the latter.

[Gasps, stumbles back] I...Well...[Reduced to silence, looking up at him] I'm a big girl.

Even big girls can break.

Heck, what can I say? Ya interest me.

[She watched him, saying nothing, merely observing.]

*His eyes rake over her, the blaze of the forge within his eyes.*

[One eyebrow arched, that and her eyes all the features that could clearly be seen beneath the veil she wore. She said nothing, though, not yet.]

*He doesn't look too pleased.*

What is it?!

I merely wonder what seems to so agitate you.

This thrice cursed holiday and the birth of my land's daughter, Meira.

You alright there?

Hardly.

A volf farlirt zayne hor, ober nit zayn natur.

((TRANSLATION: A wolf loses his hair but not his nature.))

True words, human.

My Lord, perhaps some time in the forge would steady you.

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