In the strangest of places

Isabella Heiwa · 09-21-2012, 07:41 PM

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i hope you don't mind my pp getting her to the ruins c:

Isabella's delicate white hand clung to the neck of her cloak, keeping its clasp secured even in the wind. The wind blew the cloak around her, billowing it out. She turned to face the wind, eyes watering from the force, mixing with the rain washing down her face. The cloak exposed her legs as it pulled back, snagging on the light curl of her tail. She inhaled and coughed, the water running off the tip of her nose and into her nostrils. Twirling about, she heard a call and blinked away the liquid making her sight blur with every blink.

A woman, she figured, called to her, most of her words lost to the wind. She twitched her ears, and caught her last few words. With a violent shake of her head, she reached the other woman. Delicate, white hands shot out and gripped the unknown figure by the upper arm and began to tug. "I need help," she screamed, hoping to be heard properly. It was undignified of her, but she could hardly care now. The weather was frustrating for her and she was sick of it already. Isabella did not hear any protests, or wouldn't hear them, her stormy eyes almost grey in the lack of light and damn determined.

It took a good deal of pulling as the two came into her ruin home. "Please," she said loudly with a gesture at the inner room. Isabella pulled the woman into the cover provided by the large canvas awning overhead, where water may have dripped but did not pour. Behind them, she secured the tarp over the doorway, which kept the worst of the blow back out. "He needs help," she said softly, gesturing to the white slave with a leg coated in blood. His hand shook as he looked up meekly with tired eyes.

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