this twilight feels like an afterlife [calico jack]

she pauses on a lilting note, mouth frozen in a perfect little ‘o’ of surprise. carnation eyes flit to the yearling nearby, noting his concern. it’s warming, to feel the worry of a stranger; it reminds her that for every bad in the world, there is equally as much good. or so she hopes, in any case.

"hello." she rises to her feet, but doesn’t dare step too close, unwilling to cross the personal boundaries of this boy. "forgive me, i was dwelling."

the melancholy of the evening lingers in the twitch of her brow, the curve of her lip. she attempts to disguise it with a crooked little smile tucked into the corner of her jaw, brow lifting in mirthless humour. "perhaps brooding is more accurate.” a huff of a laugh, barely audible to her own ears. "tell me, stranger…how cold does it grow here?”