drinking from our skins

Vesper · 05-31-2012, 08:47 AM

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A shadow fell across Vesper’s face, but this time it was a literal one; the raven flapped overhead, his beady eyes keeping tabs on them. No doubt it would look like no more than a scavenger following the coywolves for a quick meal, but the woman was comforted by her partner’s presence. Even though he’d be of little use in a fight, they were not far from Inferni, and Stark would go directly to one of the Bellum coyotes or anyone else who might help should this turn nasty. Though once completely above help, she beginning to learn; pride didn’t mean much when you were dead, although she’d rather die standing than on her knees.

She was thinking of the territory, and how her sparse cavern at Grimwell would look almost haimish once she got back, when Kit answered her accusations. Her ear snapped back at mention of her being afraid, frustration clear on her face for a moment before it went away. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little afraid, but she took most of it for caution.

“If you wanted to get to know me,” Vesper answered coolly, “perhaps you’d act with some class rather than eying me like a piece of meat, and try not to look like you think with your little head. Then again, I doubt that’d get you far; you seem like the type of personality I’d just hate anyway.” Her false smile curdled.

Once again, she was apparently pretty, but she did not deny his categorization this time. Instead, she chuckled. “Do the not-pretty ones not deserve any attention? Are they really lower creatures?” She quickened their pace slightly, to get closer to the territory faster. “Besides, surely the pretty ones are all taken,” she hinted, baring a canine tooth. She hadn’t really thought of herself as happening to be taken so much as taken with another, but any excuse worked for her at this point.

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