DO I LOOK IMPRESSED TO YOU
01-28-2014, 05:51 PM
Her sister was always so freaking cheery, it was one of the most irritating things in the world. Though she did respond to the dark woman's inquiry with something other than constant joy over everything, which was a little better. The dame would shrug her petite shoulders, never caring about doing anything like what her sister suggested. Life was much more relaxing and peaceful when you didn't have anything to strive for, in the wraith's opinion. When her sister asked what could have made this, bored sultry tones would be infused into the air. "Humans made this, but they're long gone now. Though I have heard they inhabit other lands, far from here." She told her sister with a soft shrug of her shoulders. She wasn't in the mood to make friendly small talk, she wanted to just have a nap. When Freyja inquired as to what was wrong with her, a growl of irritation left her maw. Everyone just had to be nosy, didn't they? Letting out a huff, she glared up at the gold and ivory femme. "I broke my foot, okay?" She spat, lips lifting slightly to reveal her fangs. She didn't need her oh so perfect sister to be knowing that she was a damned cripple. The sweet, angelic little princess would probably pity her and want to play the good fucking Samaritan and try to take care of her. She wasn't a child anymore! She didn't need everyone to take care of her like she was some weak little pup, because she was capable of scavenging until she healed. She wasn't above taking the easy route, especially if it kept her dignity. "And what about you? Obviously you have better things to be doing than talking to 'the bitchy sister'." She sneered sarcastically, knowing full well that's what mother had called her more often than not when talking to her favourite daughter. Lips were curved in a frown of disdain, remembering it all. It didn't even matter that Freyja was not Anglea's daughter, she was still preferable over the obsidian coated temptress, who had a bad attitude. She was like her dark furred older siblings, a mix of the two and nothing like her pale brother, Baldur. Such a fact deeply displeased her mother, but the way that whore treated Weth, the ebony bitch was happy about it. Flicking the charcoal tip of her long banner, mismatched optics remained fixed on the features of her half sibling while she stared into her sibling's cyan pools.
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