green leaves are calling to my heart.

Sparrow · 05-14-2012, 05:18 PM

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Word Count → 335

Sparrow blinked in surprise at the blonde’s eyes. They were peculiar—one was a soft green, then other a blue. She had never seen both colors on the same face before, but for some reason, it fitted the fair-haired girl. She found herself looking at Emmanuelle’s face instead of her gaze being down casted to the ground because of them, and hoped that she did not take it to offense; she was raised not to make eye contact, as if it was an act of rebellion. The fawn just found her eyes intriguing, and the more she spent thinking about it, the more curious about them she came to be.

“Actually… I think, I mean, I did hear singing… I’ll help, if you want, though.” For a moment, she glanced around the glass house, and added, “What are you doing, exactly?” She was quiet for a moment as the hybrid introduced herself, and replied with her own name, “Sparrow, Miss Emmanuelle. Sister of Vesper, if you know her.” She had rejected her surname the moment she left Marcel, finding it as a title that only denounced her. Now, she felt more honorable by referring herself as a sibling of the Centurion, their relation more important to Sparrow than with her monster of a father.

The woman watched Emma sweep for a moment, and asked, “What is that?”, referring to both the things that were scattered around the floor, wondering if she had dropped something on the floor, as well as the object in her hands. She was not one that was familiar with tools, even the most basic ones; the broom was foreign to her, and while it seemed obvious it was used to swat away what seemed to be useless items, she was curious if it had any other use besides that. Sparrow was the sister that was interested in the oddities, while Vesper seemed to be more practical when it came to these things. Both were bold and reserve in their own ways.

Code by the Mentors; photo courtesy to patrickhashley

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