Richard is attentive after the fashion of a hawk with a snake in his talons, even if more of the reverse is true -- marking every pause and glance without looking away from Poppell, lest she juke him with some whisper or gesture sleighted between them. He is not tall or broad enough to loom -- just watchful, and suspicious to his bones. What an odd introduction to a conspiracy.
When he answers, it is at first in a quiet, sibilant tongue, the language unfamiliar to her ears.
There is magic stirring at his shoulder, slender along the back of his neck. It winds down his sleeve, away from the constriction of their joined elbows, and out around the heel of his thumb. Wysteria will feel or see or otherwise sense keenly the grass blade tickle of a little black tongue forked against her wrist before the garter snake behind it weeble-wobbles in search of a pathway through her fingers.
In trade, in light of her two way glance, Richard asks her: “Is this a random stairwell?”
no subject
Richard is attentive after the fashion of a hawk with a snake in his talons, even if more of the reverse is true -- marking every pause and glance without looking away from Poppell, lest she juke him with some whisper or gesture sleighted between them. He is not tall or broad enough to loom -- just watchful, and suspicious to his bones. What an odd introduction to a conspiracy.
When he answers, it is at first in a quiet, sibilant tongue, the language unfamiliar to her ears.
There is magic stirring at his shoulder, slender along the back of his neck. It winds down his sleeve, away from the constriction of their joined elbows, and out around the heel of his thumb. Wysteria will feel or see or otherwise sense keenly the grass blade tickle of a little black tongue forked against her wrist before the garter snake behind it weeble-wobbles in search of a pathway through her fingers.
In trade, in light of her two way glance, Richard asks her: “Is this a random stairwell?”