white lies
02-19-2017, 08:58 PM
| Wandering tends to be without harm or consequence, and Poser has taken to it like a duck to water. Still, he longs for the home that he'd picked out for himself. It was a hard thing to think through, a strange thing... detached. It would be easier if he had somewhere to stay, somewhere to be. Aches for it. Aches. Such is the way. For the shadow, he was more than happy to wander. It's sheer elegance that carries him across the ground, nose to it, searching. He's unsure of how long the stranger had been standing in place before speaking. A shaky voice, the one that leads Poser to pick that head up from the ground, peering over the tall plants. He was not a native speaker of the common tongue, so he understands the hesitance that can come with speaking it. "Good afternoon." Mild. Poser is trying hard for mild, words colored through with the Russian accent that he hasn't bothered to lose. "Isn't it lovely?" Gentle as he peers out over the plants, the flowers, the early fall foliage. poser breathy way of saying my name |
![[Image: VVdK7m3.png]](http://i.imgur.com/VVdK7m3.png)