Flycatcher Downs Sometimes being too courageous is a problem

He noticed her, though it seemed a little bit on the slow side. Then again, she was not surprised the moment he opened his mouth, as the voice that came out of it was of some timid wayward youth or whatever she anticipated; it was rough with disuse. It cracked, creaked, and maybe even groaned. His question gave her pause, at first her only response to be to look off at the distance as though she was breaking an imaginary fourth wall. Was this guy for real and what not.

The moment passed and her gaze swung back to meet his, the peculiar blue not entirely like her own. Softer, full of warmth, something something; her own were more like the blue glaze of ice on a glacier. Hard and unyielding, much like the personality she tended to possess. "Maybe," she countered, canting her head as though she could warp his sense of reality. "Why? What's not real?" Her questions were rapid-fire and insistent, pushing and prodding from the moment they left her tongue.