notes from the underground
#11
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Green-toned eyes followed his hand, following and invisible line though the city to the softened landscape beyond. She knew it only enough to get the gist of where he meant, and nodded to show an understanding. Jasper too, she had met twice before and coloured in the genetic and historical links with, as she found herself doing with a higher proportion of strangers than seemed reasonable. But, "Laruku?" she repeated for clarification. The name was distantly familiar, a name dropped by somebodies, once or twice in conversations that too far back to recall.


Her brows popped up and quirked in one corner when he carried on about packs, though. She couldn't believe that one for an instant. "Oh, no," she agreed heavily, hiding her tempting smirk with a wide, flat frown. "Damaged goods, you are. So artless, too! No pack could possibly use the likes of you," she drawled while her steps became wider and more sweeping, swaying her body and hand in and out from his side as they passed by dark, broken shopfronts. "An all-around bad egg, if I do say myself." She looked at him with a smart nod that couldn't help but break off into a nose-wrinkling grin, just a little wicked.
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