wall of ice, warmth of speech
[ voodoo, trigger; drug use ]
Ah, so his english didn't translate all that well. Voodoo felt a little embarrassed she felt as if she had done something wrong. She never would admit it though. She placed the cap back onto the tincture and washed the remaining residue off her paw in the edge of the lake. Feeling her body become a little less weighted as she sat down beside Torben. "I'm not sure it's ever made ME see things. It rather makes me unsee them, I get happy, giggly, talkative. And the nightmares leave me alone." Nightmares. The one dream she had always involved that jet black wolf she had murdered. Her gut still twisted at the feeling, she... enjoyed it. She had enjoyed seeing the man seize and die from the herbs she gave him when he had begged for help. That made her bad.
Soon that was forgotten though as her head calmed and she relaxed more than she had. Even brushing her own shoulder up against Torben. Damn was he big, but he was definitely warm and fluffy too. "Er sorry, give time is a figure of speech. It means wait a little longer and I'm sure that you will settle in." she laughed then and gently pushed her shoulder into his. "How does a BIG boi like you come to Boreas anyway? Did you get stuck here?" Voodoo half hoped he had a sob story for her to listen to. At least it would be entertaining, hers wasn't as much. She had a good upbringing, sure no father but her mother had treated her kindly and had taught her all she could before she sought her own path. Voodoo had never been hungry, but she had felt sadness, anger, and many things through her own emotions. Maybe she felt too damn much.