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+---- Thread: a whisper / joining (/showthread.php?tid=13576)
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Re: a whisper / joining - Grimm - 01-02-2021
[div style="margin: auto; background-image: linear-gradient(to top left, #7e7488 50%, #5c5c79 50%); max-width: 475px; height: auto; padding: 2%; border: 1px #1d1d1d solid;"][div style="margin: auto; background-color: #1d1d1d; max-width: 475px; color: #fefefe; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; border: 2px #1d1d1d solid; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]Diverted attention for span of moment, presence reduced, made miniscule beneath scrutiny. Confusion bloomer, worn along visage soft behind stray strands of rabbit fur, alight in pale depths that observed action. Known fear, how it clung to tongue and stuck it to the roof of his mouth without wish to release it, ribs aching with the pace of heart quickened knot fluttering tempo, this he did not know, however. Strange the tingle that invaded skin, cast a dull sensation across muscle grown taunt, felt eyes fantastical peering through until laid bare was he.
Sudden the flutter of lids, eyes shuttered and opened in quick succession, averted as mind grew clear, though haze clung to the edges. To analyse such was to prompt further speculation, straws all his mind may grasp at as once more he settled on interloper. There was nothing, though dense grew the weight of fatigue tied to slumped shoulders. Battle waged to hold back a yawn that threatened to spill forth, head briefly shaken before response registered.
Sharp the smile Foam bore, a crooked thing lifting singular corner. Grander than one hold the comment of owning the land, yet it his mind latched upon, pride making brazen his tongue once more. "Yeah, is mine." Falsehood of comment easily proven, eyes turning, fretful now as Medusa spoken once more. Back did he step, grown sheepish as she addressed both in turn, the air cleared and clear direction established for how they may proceed. "Vaas good, got weird smelling plants, though. Quasar likes em so I don't." Empty words that which spilled forth, giving no real substance to the conversation at hand.
Further comment stalled as familiar figure made his own approach, after Foam looking as he took things into hand. Straighter grew his back, as though wished to properly mimick the manner Rhine held himself, the strain only allowing such for a moment or two. It was a particular word that drew him once more into the conversation, confusion drawing a frown against his lips. "What's flayed."