Bonesplinter Ravine Let Dead things lie [m]

Artok listened with interest, eyes watching the youth as he dared to move closer, and closer still. Their breath mingling here now. Close up, Artok got a bigger eye full. A youth taller than he, made for running. Where Artok was more of a stocky, fellow, made for wider stance and broader shoulders. There was no lean waist upon him. Solid.

The youth was painted, in colors of frost and loam. Eyes of moon kissed star beams. Artok, gave a soft purl of a noise.

Pretty words, mean nothing.

The youth could tell him it was meant for fate, that he found exactly what he was looking for and it would be exactly what Artok knew it to be. Lies, more lies on top of lies.

He stood still allowing the youth with a hair's breadth. He would allow him to make the first move, though he kept his body in such a way that any internal organs and his throat were hidden. It was one thing to search for unfeeling, carnal anything, it was another to attack. And thus far, this youth had not fully shown his hand. The ball was firmly in the youths court.