[ @nightdraught continued from X ]
This really was the perfect spot, wasn’t it?
Well, it could be better, the trees weren’t as high as he wanted. But, the space as open and vacant of anything that could really do harm. Harm, at least that actually mattered. It’s been ages since they’ve had a proper storm, one that thrummed with purpose, one that sung to him in a precious, beautiful lullaby. What comfort he got from the natural power that caused fear.
And lucky he was that the weather was not reaching it’s climax till late into the night. Most were already boarded in their homes to wade out it’s screams. His head tilts back, the hood of his cloak clings against his tangled hair with the wind whipping in indecisive directions. He shuts his eyes, a slight humming on the corners of them, a numbness itching the tips of his fingers.
“Yeah, I hear you, you sure are taking your time aren’t you?” A soft mutter, under his breath as if he needed to keep it confidential. No whisper back would be satisfying enough, despite it being closer to a real response than any normal person would receive.
And he listens, the wind swirling stronger, feeling it attract around his ankles and tilt the cut grass under him. Oh, then he hears that voice.
In his concentration it does make his relaxed pose stiffen. Near comedically to this stranger’s observation, a small line of gold static flickers over his shoulders, brighter in the dim light. His eyes open, tilting his head over, a soft light in the yellow iris, humming for the coming orchestra.
“...I’m aware. Thank you.” And he looks up, feeling the soft impact of rain, a single drop, then several, many more, blotting the space between them.
“...And if you were wise, stranger, I would keep my distance.”














