[HE'LL GET OVER YOUR LOOKS EVENTUALLY OKAY???? it's hard out here for a pimp
Well, shit. It's only two sentences and neither one of them hits a ten word mark, but it's saying plenty. Cracking through the fear is a twinge of guilt—the specifics are still all blanks, but the heart of the matter is clear. Obvious as it might seem now, Richie supposes no one signs up for life as the undead.
He tries to think of the right thing to say. His heart has slowed its sprinter's pace, winding down to a brisk walk. Even the sweat at his brow has evaporated. There's danger here, but for now, it's not in the boat with him. Even with a move towards calm the best he can come up with is a very plain and earnest.]
I'm sorry.
[Richie pushes the oar through the water. For once, he'll be silent.]
[ Nor is he interested in pity. He doesn't say that so baldly, though; he's taking Richie's statement for what it is: something like a peace offering. One he will not turn away.
The shoreline is visible ahead; their journey will come to its end, soon. Koltira sits down, hands on his knees, expression neutral. His eyes--bright as lanterns, obscuring the scar-white of his pupils--give nothing away. ]
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no subject
Well, shit. It's only two sentences and neither one of them hits a ten word mark, but it's saying plenty. Cracking through the fear is a twinge of guilt—the specifics are still all blanks, but the heart of the matter is clear. Obvious as it might seem now, Richie supposes no one signs up for life as the undead.
He tries to think of the right thing to say. His heart has slowed its sprinter's pace, winding down to a brisk walk. Even the sweat at his brow has evaporated. There's danger here, but for now, it's not in the boat with him. Even with a move towards calm the best he can come up with is a very plain and earnest.]
I'm sorry.
[Richie pushes the oar through the water. For once, he'll be silent.]
no subject
[ Nor is he interested in pity. He doesn't say that so baldly, though; he's taking Richie's statement for what it is: something like a peace offering. One he will not turn away.
The shoreline is visible ahead; their journey will come to its end, soon. Koltira sits down, hands on his knees, expression neutral. His eyes--bright as lanterns, obscuring the scar-white of his pupils--give nothing away. ]
Like many things, it simply is.