with all the colors of the wind

Micah Sunrise Lykoi · 08-08-2011, 08:51 PM

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In a tragic sort of way, yes. I kind of feel bad I have so much fun playing him. I love these two together!

Questioned about his shirt, Micah blinked and lifted his arms, looking down at the black hoodie unzipped over the white tee on his shirt. Neither of them were their original color anymore, really; his spraypainting had left smears of color everywhere, not to mention wear and tear from a lack of a fleshed-out wardrobe. Once again heat filled his cheeks and he sunk both into his shoulders and behind his thick, white-streaked curls. "I-I-I'm, umm... I-I do spraypainting... i-it's not really neat. I-I was working on something over there when I heard you," he added, pointing distractedly over his shoulder and raising the can in the other hand. "I don't have many clothes..."

Given her name, the coyote managed a small smile, but his heart only pounded harder by the proximity she was in. He had a very large bubble, and while he was not exactly insulted for it to be invaded, it did lead to a great burst in anxiety for the poor, bumbling Lykoi. "I-I-I'm Mi-Mi-Micah," he stammered, extending a hand trembling so horribly one could hardly distinguish that it there for a handshake. No! What if it's sweaty?! He withdrew it just as quickly, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "M-Micah Lykoi, Cer-Cer-Cercatori d'Arte."

Bowing his head out of embarrassment, lowered eyes noticed the weasel at her feet, watching it strangely and anxiously, body visibly tensing up as if ready to jump back should it get any closer. "Y-You have a ve-very nice voice," he added, eyes unmoving from the little Tux.

table by lin

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