06-17-2011, 12:52 PM
ooc +3
The mild singe of heartburn in her chest was a sure sign her suspicions about the stressful nature of Colt's company were on point. Giza hard to resist the urge to grasp and knead at her pale sternum to ease the escalating tension there. Her uncle's oral tick had caused her to flinch. And the sight of his tensing muscles readied her own to take flight. Though she'd heard tell of his peculiar affliction, adjusting to the reality of it would be difficult. The curses stimulated old impulses to duck and cover - to make herself sparse. There was no surer was to drive off Giza then with familial conflict.
"I'm sorry." She apologized, though she felt daft for offering her remorse for not having taken a torch to her former home before she left. It was a stupid weak willed and minded response and her features twisted in brief self loathing for having allowed it to escape her. There was no way for Cotl to know the exceptionally passive manner in which she left, tail between her legs without objection. There hadn't been any anger on her part, inferno inspiring or otherwise, just an overwhelming sense of loss. Though, she supposed it was a mere matter of time before he and whomever else so much as payed her the slightest attention in the clan, came to recognize her for the predictably mild creature she was. In time, a select few might come to see her as playful, others she found unsavory would know her lofty sense of regal entitlement inflated self worth. For now, there was only small, cautious Giza whom even she found irksome.
The female's question seemed disjointed and peculiar, Giza could not understand what had inspired it, as she was oblivious to the scorched history of the area's clans. "Few." She answered, trying to hold back her confusion so as not to appear disrespectful. "Slaves, mostly." Giza was indifferent toward the species and held nothing against them. They had comprised the few few ranks beneath her.
She hadn't noticed before, but the female was markedly underweight - and there was something off about her torso, though she didn't allow her eyes to linger on her long enough so as to get an impression of just what that something was. Strange for someone with dominant inclinations. Perhaps she'd misjudged her. It occurred to Giza she hadn't the slightest what to call the stranger, though she wasn't so bold as to ask for her name. She imagined she'd learn how to address her in due time.
The mild singe of heartburn in her chest was a sure sign her suspicions about the stressful nature of Colt's company were on point. Giza hard to resist the urge to grasp and knead at her pale sternum to ease the escalating tension there. Her uncle's oral tick had caused her to flinch. And the sight of his tensing muscles readied her own to take flight. Though she'd heard tell of his peculiar affliction, adjusting to the reality of it would be difficult. The curses stimulated old impulses to duck and cover - to make herself sparse. There was no surer was to drive off Giza then with familial conflict.
"I'm sorry." She apologized, though she felt daft for offering her remorse for not having taken a torch to her former home before she left. It was a stupid weak willed and minded response and her features twisted in brief self loathing for having allowed it to escape her. There was no way for Cotl to know the exceptionally passive manner in which she left, tail between her legs without objection. There hadn't been any anger on her part, inferno inspiring or otherwise, just an overwhelming sense of loss. Though, she supposed it was a mere matter of time before he and whomever else so much as payed her the slightest attention in the clan, came to recognize her for the predictably mild creature she was. In time, a select few might come to see her as playful, others she found unsavory would know her lofty sense of regal entitlement inflated self worth. For now, there was only small, cautious Giza whom even she found irksome.
The female's question seemed disjointed and peculiar, Giza could not understand what had inspired it, as she was oblivious to the scorched history of the area's clans. "Few." She answered, trying to hold back her confusion so as not to appear disrespectful. "Slaves, mostly." Giza was indifferent toward the species and held nothing against them. They had comprised the few few ranks beneath her.
She hadn't noticed before, but the female was markedly underweight - and there was something off about her torso, though she didn't allow her eyes to linger on her long enough so as to get an impression of just what that something was. Strange for someone with dominant inclinations. Perhaps she'd misjudged her. It occurred to Giza she hadn't the slightest what to call the stranger, though she wasn't so bold as to ask for her name. She imagined she'd learn how to address her in due time.