Dragoncrest Cliffs i could base my whole existence on the cherry-strands of your gold hair

he had little time to gloat over his small victory, for the female issued forth a look tachyon couldn't entirely identify. her expression was devoid of a discernible emotion, but what did it mean? tachyon wasn't entirely convinced the expression wasn't ominous in its origin.

he was disappointed to hear his thinly-veiled offer shot down so quickly -- and upon inward examination, tachyon was entirely perplexed with what would have encouraged lusca to so swiftly reject him. was he ugly? was he not clean enough?

was he fat?

while he thought, the distance between the two of them grew until he was rocked from his internal turmoil and noticed lusca was getting away. unwilling to endure loneliness no longer, tachyon pursued her fleeing form. "okay." it was a meager response, but a response none-the-less.