08-20-2018, 10:20 AM
[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 55%; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px;"]The soft words of Warringkingdom distract Imperia from Versailles' spectacle. A tired smile spreads across black lips as she regards the former cleric with warmth. "You look like you are feeling much better," she says, taking note of how much Rin seems to have improved since she announced her sickness. "Thank yo--" anything else she might have planned to say is immediately forgotten as soon as she spots Moonmade approaching.
Those chiseled cheekbones are the same, as well as his narrow frame. But there are fresh wounds. New scars. Markings of torture and abuse. "Mon dieu," she murmurs, a concerned crease forming between furrowed brows. "What did those monsters do to you?" She knows that Moonmade is perfectly capable of tending to his own wounds, but an immense guilt blossoms in her chest. This means he returned alone, while she was stuck inside. And she could not even help dress his wounds for him! Imperia feels useless. Some part of her believes that somehow, some way, she should have escaped that Observatory on her own just so that she could have been there for Moon when he needed her.
Silver eyes flicker over his form. The pink aura still clings to him, but it is muted somehow. Perhaps by sadness? Worry? "You okay?" Yes, worry. It touches her. Warms her. What did she do to earn his concern? It brings tears to her eyes. Tears of happiness, of anxiety, of all the emotions she desperately kept at bay while entombed in the darkness of the Observatory. On impulse, Imperia launches herself at the lion, pulling him into a deep embrace. "I am now," she whispers softly, muzzle pressed into the short mane growing in tufts upon his neck. She feels a little strange, but the feeling is not as strong as the comfort she feels when she presses up against him. "I missed you.." So much.
Those chiseled cheekbones are the same, as well as his narrow frame. But there are fresh wounds. New scars. Markings of torture and abuse. "Mon dieu," she murmurs, a concerned crease forming between furrowed brows. "What did those monsters do to you?" She knows that Moonmade is perfectly capable of tending to his own wounds, but an immense guilt blossoms in her chest. This means he returned alone, while she was stuck inside. And she could not even help dress his wounds for him! Imperia feels useless. Some part of her believes that somehow, some way, she should have escaped that Observatory on her own just so that she could have been there for Moon when he needed her.
Silver eyes flicker over his form. The pink aura still clings to him, but it is muted somehow. Perhaps by sadness? Worry? "You okay?" Yes, worry. It touches her. Warms her. What did she do to earn his concern? It brings tears to her eyes. Tears of happiness, of anxiety, of all the emotions she desperately kept at bay while entombed in the darkness of the Observatory. On impulse, Imperia launches herself at the lion, pulling him into a deep embrace. "I am now," she whispers softly, muzzle pressed into the short mane growing in tufts upon his neck. She feels a little strange, but the feeling is not as strong as the comfort she feels when she presses up against him. "I missed you.." So much.