Blackbeak Bluff sugar veins

[table width=85%][tr][td]

The girl, at first, was taken aback by Kitsch’s assumptive entrance — but it slowly melted into a certain sense of openness, as wolves often tended to do. In fact, the girl who stared so solemnly out beyond the bluff greeted her quite amicably, echoing Kitsch’s own introduction. With that, Kitsch was certain that she was welcome and she swept her gamine hips against the crumbling earth that built these impressive cliffs. She released a low chuff out of pleasure, for the girl always felt she worked better when joined with a comrade — and now she had one! 

“Not really,” Kitsch suggested with a shrug of her sloping, downy shoulders. Though their milieu dwarfed both young girls alike [and was well deserving of their awe], Kitsch did not seek it out for its beauty. Kitsch rarely tried to find anything, simply came upon things but barely paid them any attention. These wilds, all of it, paled in comparison to Sao Baile; a land she craved with the entirety of her being. All the world was dull compared to it so she traveled with such listlessness; as if only to experience the movement of such. “Are you really here for the view?” she questioned inelegantly, notching up an onyx eyebrow at the agouti girl beside her. Kitsch didn’t believe that for a second.

[/td][/tr][/table]