everybody wants to rule the world

The male seemed a little annoyed himself, probably because of her snippy response to his introduction. Whoops. He reiterated, that his name was Winter. What an odd name, though she couldn't exactly talk, her whole family were named after various deities. However, calling her little one wasn't exactly a good call. "Woah, hey, I'm not little! I'll have you know I'm taller than all of my siblings." She huffed indignantly, straightening up to scowl at the strange man. However, his demeanor seemed to be quelled soon after, which seemed much better in the patchwork girl's books.

Then, he started to weave a story about a princess that he served, and a knight- wait, he was a knight? That was totally awesome, and adventures sounded like seventeen different kinds of fun. As the tale continued, an awed glint came to rest in her acidic orbs, and a small smile began to creep onto her features. When the offer finally came to join him in an adventure, to meet a princess who might think she was pretty, the petite femme was overjoyed. The delicate frame of her conversational partner lowered slowly to the ground, taking on a sphinx like pose. Her smile widened, jaws swinging open to offer a gleeful response. "Oh my gods! That sounds-" She began, but her reply was never finished, when a ghostly voice rang out all around her.

Toxic pools would widen, dark pupils shrinking to a pinpoint as the threat to the stranger rang out and sank into her bones. Ashen hackles would rise slowly, an attempt to make her gangly figure seem more imposing, less appealing to a ghost. She'd left her siblings for hardly even half a day, and already she was about to be attacked by a ghost. Great. Slowly, the gears in her brain sputtered into motion, processing what the spirit was saying. Then, her shaking quelled. She was protected by a ghost? Okay, throw that on the top of the list of cool things that had happened to her, ever. This was turning out to be a good day without her brother and sisters. Sort of. Still she was somewhat anxious that she couldn't see this ghost, or even smell it. Ghosts were mist, though, weren't they? They wouldn't have a smell. Silly her. Her mouth would remain locked shut, waiting for the next bomb to fall on her.




"Speech"

But the rest is forgotten