08-09-2009, 03:33 AM
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| http://digital-bonsai.com/katew/temp/jezebel.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:fixed; padding-top:270px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:11px; padding-bottom:10px;"> She glanced at him sidelong with her crimson eyes as she limped over to the waters edge, ears flicked back and towards his direction to catch any sudden movements or sound as she rested her hand on his forearm, which was deceivingly firm despite his streamlined appearance. Slowly but surely he was gaining a small amount of her trust, though Jezebel never fully trusted anyone, especially someone who hid their appearance, their identity. If she had known the thoughts running through his mind, the way his eyes drifted over the contours of her body, she would have run screaming long ago, but then again she wasn't a mind reader and she settled herself neatly before the waters edge, sitting and resting the heel of her injured foot into the damp sands. She watched with a distant interest as he tore at the edge of his cloak, wondering if she should protest him damaging his garment, though she figured he would assure her that it was no problem in the gentlemanly mannerisms he had so far shown. So not wasting her breath in such trivial niceties she looked on as he soaked a larger piece of the cloth in the water, then turned with his hand out asking her permission to tend to her wound. She wondered if now would be the time to protest and take the cloth in her own hands to clean the wound, but as she gazed curiously into the mysterious, shadowed face beneath the hood she couldn't help but shrug. He had lulled her conscious like a vampire might glamor its victim and without much more hesitation she gave a slight nod, raising her foot so he could wipe it clean. She watched in silence as he went to work, head tilted to the side as she leaned back and rested her weight on her hands, which she placed upon the ground. “My name is Jezebel,” she said to fill the ensuing awkward silence, pausing in hopes of receiving his name as well. Gazing on as her muscles slowly relaxed, though her ears remained warily flicked back, her features curious yet conscience well armed to anything that might happen. She hadn't survived the Scintilla War and the years that followed based on luck after all. |