my fathers blade

Lorcan · (This post was last modified: April 15, 2025, 04:32 AM by Lorcan.)

— prepared first to have quarreled, but he realizes he is simply too exhausted—mentally, emotionally—for anything beyond barbed words and cutting glances.
her comment, however, scathes. lorcan lurks now like a shadow, appearing from behind a tree and spitting upon the earth that shreds between them. you could say that. a snort. casting her a lingering stare before it drifts off, loitering in the distance.
gazing in brooding at the peak of winsook. he sees her draw closer, raising shield, in the periphery of his view; but he does nothing more than show her his defensive shoulder and cast her a long-faced, arrogant look. she will not earn the upperhand here—not against him. so with a tsk and a click of teeth, he angles towards her and pins arrogant stare upon her. what man did you find to ruffle your feathers? a rogue's smirk.
moving at once, suddenly, with a snake's prowess, to begin circling her. this, this, this was most natural to him. the chase, the thrill. the push and pull of taunting and bantering and flirting and then... simply... leaving.
he snaps his teeth a hair's breath away from her tail. you've caused me issues, wildling.