Isla
Hurrying inside and feeling all the better for the warmth that licks across her skin, Isla ruffles a hand through loose, wind-tossed curls and slinks further into the building she'd helped raise from the ground up, knowing the corridors and doorways like the back of her hand. Having hung her shawl on the back of the chair she intends to recline in, she turns just in time to see Sunjata swan into view.
"Sunjata, you--" Whatever she might be about to say to him in greeting dies on her tongue, the Remedy gathered up in an embrace that feels so right it absolutely, never will be. Things are different not only in King's End, evidently, and Isla has to force herself to grasp at his upper arms to create distance, or else the scent of woodsmoke and botanicals will only make things worse.
"You look good," she says nonetheless, raising her eyebrows at the scars that (literally) light up along Sunjata's skin, and she has to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. "Coffee would be great. Spike it, would you?"
"Sunjata, you--" Whatever she might be about to say to him in greeting dies on her tongue, the Remedy gathered up in an embrace that feels so right it absolutely, never will be. Things are different not only in King's End, evidently, and Isla has to force herself to grasp at his upper arms to create distance, or else the scent of woodsmoke and botanicals will only make things worse.
"You look good," she says nonetheless, raising her eyebrows at the scars that (literally) light up along Sunjata's skin, and she has to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. "Coffee would be great. Spike it, would you?"
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard
When you hit me, hit me hard
