Hideaway Strath Bloodsucker

mictec tilted her head slightly, her marigold eyes flickering with an unreadable glint as she studied the stranger before her. the crimson of Envy’s gaze caught the dim light, stark and vivid against her pale fur, and the peculiar contrast piqued mictec’s curiosity. her presence remained steady and deliberate, the quiet air of someone who had seen many layers beneath what others chose to show.

cosas bonitas, she said softly, her tone carrying a note of caution. the words hung in the air, unelaborated, but her gaze dipped briefly to the pouch where the crocus flowers lay nestled. her expression remained inscrutable, neither warm nor cold, like a veil hiding purpose.

pretty things often hold the sharpest edges, she said softly, her voice low and smooth, like the whisper of wind through brittle reeds. she shifted slightly, the skeletal marking on her face catching the meager light as she glanced briefly at the pouch. but who am i to question the whims of a collector?

el invierno no perdona, she remarked, her tail waving slightly to remove the bits of snow that dotted her obsidian fur. her gaze lingered, a weight without malice, yet difficult to escape. even so, i find it curious, mictec mused, her tone almost teasing, though her face betrayed no humor. the last person i knew who would brave such weather was a healer. is that a similar sentiment you carry?