#gr6ved

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

The Witcher ceased the hunt of his contract momentarily when he realized he wasn't alone in the woods... especially when he realized that the other was not his quarry. Picking the other's presence up from miles off with his enhanced senses... detecting the different scent, hearing the crackling of a fire... and a heartbeat. Interesting. He didn't think anyone else was staying this far out in the woods of Cormanthor. Best he make sure it wasn't a potential threat, or hunting him. Wouldn't be the first time it had happened, and he didn't need the trouble. Turning, the mutant made his way through the falling rain and mist of the wilderness, and he went towards the source... eventually spotting it in the distance. A camp like his own not far away had been set up, smoke rising up from the fire.

His viper eyes assessed its layout, before sheathing his Meteorite Steel sword, though ready to take it up again or cast Signs if needed. Making his way towards the camp, dark cloak shifting about him, Eskel allowed his boot steps to be heard from some ways off. Last thing he needed was to startle the person, risk am avoidable conflict. When he was some distance closer to the camp, he stopped in his tracks when he spotted the figure for himself. Spotted her. An attractive red haired she elf... one who made his enchanted silver wolf head medallion hum and buzz faintly against the chest of his armor. A magic user, without a doubt. He would have to remain on his guard. When she had looked his way, his marred visage smiled faintly, and he inclined his hooded head, deep, languid voice addressing her.

"Evening, lady. Wasn't expecting any elves out here... least of all mages. Out on a hunt yourself, questing or just camping?"

@gr6ved

[bhaael]

❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜

a reasonable question considering you're coated in blood more often than not. its become a second skin to you, and although you remember nothing before the tadpole you know deep in your soul that this is nothing new. despite this, you feel oddly embarrassed at her question & you unconsciously wipe away at the speckles & rivulets of blood that have dried on your face. maybe you got a little carried away earlier, after all the shadow-cursed lands offer you the perfect opportunity to kill as your urge contents whilst remaining guilt free, knowing you're only slaughtering husks of things that have long since perished.

❝ lots of things to kill, can't help it if they bleed a lot, ❞ you shrug as you scratch at a spot of dried blood on your chin, resisting the urge to bring it to your lips. ❝ this guy though ---- oh you're gonna love this ---- he literally exploded ! like fireworks but somehow ... prettier. ❞ you reign in your excitement & clear your throat. you should probably take a bath.

sentence starters / @gr6ved

[ofweave]

what ghost haunts you?

the ghost of devotion: your body was crafted to be loved and to be adored. you write with the touch of a poet, the fingertips of a lover. if you are not loved, you are not whole. you are made to be sculpted by the hands of another into something perfect. without their love, you feel as though you may crumble without the support of purpose their touch provides. when ernest hemingway wrote “it was too good to last.” when ocean vuong wrote, “i miss you more than i remember you.” when david foster wallace wrote, “everything i’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.”

tagged by: @gr6ved 💜 tagging: you !!!