03-28-2008, 10:26 PM
[html]I want to see the look in her eyes,
when her body parts ways with life.
Kezia Havok
_____He'd followed her gaze, searching for what she'd seen when vision had sought out the spectre. Lips twisting with a faint smile, she shook her head softly. "You won't see him," she said quietly, referring to the ghost that haunted the edges of her vision. The creature that once was but would never be again, save a shadow in her memory. Fingers brushed through her hair, pushing locks back from where the wind blew them into her face and eyes. The boy seemed increasingly awkward, as though trying so hard to engage conversation, but finding himself painfully unable. How sad. She almost pitied the child. The girl could care less about company or not. It was rare she honestly tried to engage with other living things, and when she did, there was usually some motive. Or simply boredom. Either way, love and kindness were ideals long since forgotten—fairy-tale memories of childhood when things were still simple and easy.
_____"Conversing with ghosts from the past," Kezia replied, grin widening until the edges of pale fangs slipped past her lips. He'd think her mad, for sure, but who's to say she wasn't? Sane people didn't see dead people. "What are you doing out here? Far from home, aren't we?" she asked, leaning back again against the tree behind her. Of course, she didn't know the boy's home wasn't actually that far from here. But for a rogue gypsy the smell on his coat was the same as any wolf pack's—and she didn't belong, or care to belong to any of them.
when her body parts ways with life.
Kezia Havok
_____"Conversing with ghosts from the past," Kezia replied, grin widening until the edges of pale fangs slipped past her lips. He'd think her mad, for sure, but who's to say she wasn't? Sane people didn't see dead people. "What are you doing out here? Far from home, aren't we?" she asked, leaning back again against the tree behind her. Of course, she didn't know the boy's home wasn't actually that far from here. But for a rogue gypsy the smell on his coat was the same as any wolf pack's—and she didn't belong, or care to belong to any of them.