AESIOR OPHELES
✯ — got spirits in my head and they won't go
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Faint and curious would rest the gaze that fell upon lavender eyes, quick to gaze over his body. He was checking from a distance for any visible injuries, opening his maw to draw his scent in. Unique were the stories that every scar told on every person, the set of three across his own throat bearing the story of his vocal loss. Blinking his eyes as he nodded, lifting a paw as if to wave him over, to follow them.
He couldn't speak to imply that he would be given sanctuary, but he hoped that the other could read his body language. Turning about, he would flick his tail a few times in the direction he was going to head, looking back at Vincent with a nod before turning back around. He would walk a few paces forward before waiting, ready to beckon if necessary. When the other would catch up, he would lead the way quietly back to camp, the containers in his satchel clinking together.
He couldn't speak to imply that he would be given sanctuary, but he hoped that the other could read his body language. Turning about, he would flick his tail a few times in the direction he was going to head, looking back at Vincent with a nod before turning back around. He would walk a few paces forward before waiting, ready to beckon if necessary. When the other would catch up, he would lead the way quietly back to camp, the containers in his satchel clinking together.
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THE FLOWER BURNS