Dancing In The Mirror
09-27-2014, 05:16 PM
The voice was an intrusion, but Bryn would take it in stride. She turned her head languidly, as if unsurprised by the appearance of another. Her coat was pale, her eyes intriguing, vivid colors visible despite the hour. The chill would shift, wisking her scent towards the darker femme, and Brynhildr would note the trace of blood. Injured, hmm? She couldn't help but wonder what the wraith had been up to. She would allow an easy smile onto her lips, head tilting, smirk growing. "I've certainly been called worse," she quipped, light and airy. She opened her dark maw, meaning to speak again, but a gust of wind would sweep in upon the pair. It was bitterly cold, a portent of the autumn near at hand, and Brynhildr could not help but turn her head into the torrent. It's severity was bracing. As it died down the woman would be left with a poised expression, as if the wind had been a lover's heated kiss. She let loose a sigh before turning on her company once more. "It a good night to let loose," she would allow. "Crisp and clear, with a bit of mischief on the air." In truth, she was having trouble gaining the woman's measure. There was an unease in the air, and had Bryn noticed the mangled optic at the woman's base she might have thought twice about engaging in the conversation any further, but as it stood she saw only a stranger with a few stories to tell. Her brows would remain lifted, curious and at ease, in face of the mystery incarnate. "TALK" "YOU" THINK |
