03-17-2008, 02:27 AM
[html][/html]
Cool and calm as he always had been, Hollow did not rush himself the way that Poe couldn't help herself. But his touch was sincere, even a little raw, leaving trails of ruffled fur up her back. She wasn't sure if it was the upturned fur or the touch itself that left the paths speckled with goose bumps. She held onto him tightly with her cheek pressed into the side of his neck, brows furrowed and lips smiling in the clashing train of thought and emotion that moved to the beat of her startled heart. "I missed you too," she muffled into his shoulder, pressing her nose there for a second before following suit with him and pulling back a little to get a second look at him. He certainly looked alive and real, and her other senses were pleasantly consumed in agreement, but his youngest son's words reverberated and pressed against them.
Before she could form those thoughts into a question, Hollow beat her to it with a cheeky question. It sparked a grin and relaxed her enough to loosen her death-grip on her (dead) friend. She took a brief glance at herself, noting her complete lack of clothing (a true rarity these days), adding to her debate between reality and dream. It was then that she decided not to ask--for chance that it may be like a fairytale; ask the wrong question, and it will pop like a bubble. Fantasy or not, making this almost-real Hollow disappear before she could get her fill, was not worth the risk. So she eased her arms again, only lacing her fingers behind his neck in a fleshy-furry black necklace. "I'm always play dress-up, my dear," she assured him with a small toss of her bangs and a glint on her eyes. "Not even the prettiest of gowns could stop me from breaking into homes to raid their closets and trunks." Or so she believed. "And you? Have you still got your crown, or have you moved on to more practical headwear?"
Before she could form those thoughts into a question, Hollow beat her to it with a cheeky question. It sparked a grin and relaxed her enough to loosen her death-grip on her (dead) friend. She took a brief glance at herself, noting her complete lack of clothing (a true rarity these days), adding to her debate between reality and dream. It was then that she decided not to ask--for chance that it may be like a fairytale; ask the wrong question, and it will pop like a bubble. Fantasy or not, making this almost-real Hollow disappear before she could get her fill, was not worth the risk. So she eased her arms again, only lacing her fingers behind his neck in a fleshy-furry black necklace. "I'm always play dress-up, my dear," she assured him with a small toss of her bangs and a glint on her eyes. "Not even the prettiest of gowns could stop me from breaking into homes to raid their closets and trunks." Or so she believed. "And you? Have you still got your crown, or have you moved on to more practical headwear?"