from the mind of a stoner
08-25-2014, 06:44 PM
It was a curious sight, truly. The fae was totally dead-faced. Not a flicker of happiness or sadness danced through those fiery pits, nor made her facial muscles twitch. It was almost unnerving. But Drago was no stranger to these types of wolves - the ones who never revealed their inner thoughts. It didn't bother him. He could be outspoken enough for the both of them. "I heard of this place in passing. It's just as beautiful as I was told!" Golden hazel orbs drifted to the scenery, the brilliantly white rocks where a river once snaked through the land. The entire valley seemed to glow with a pale, beautifully pure light. He turned his attention back to the crimson female. "I imagine the same thing brought you here? I'm sorry if I'm wrong and just prying." He let out an open-mouthed laugh, showing his amusement at his own antics. Act. "Speak. Italian." Think. |