Sweet Cinnamoth
EXP: 37,766, Level: 8
Level completed: 31%,
EXP required for next Level: 6,234
From his stolen seat, the little fae was failing to not shake like a leaf.
At first, he had dazedly assumed that this vision of Amari was some sort of sleepless hallucination. A vivid mirage conjured by his wandering mind. But no, this was the real deal, complete with a striking outfit and her sharp tongue. It was the talking that made him realize it was really her. It felt too real. She seemed somewhat more put-together than she had been at the bar or… especially that-other-one-don’t-think-about-it time. Whether that made her more dangerous or more trustworthy, it was hard to say. But oddly, when he thought about it, she hadn’t seemed hostile, at the bar. Nor this time. Yet. Fenn’s lips twisted into a feral snarl. If she thought he was going to up and go “yeah it's okay I’m fine with you†right away though, she had another think coming to her.
He sort of, kind of, gave her a wave that sort of, kind of, ended in a distinct finger and fearfully retreated back into his cloak. The cloak was doing a rare thing now; it shrouded most of him protectively. Only his marble-green eyes were visible beneath the matching fabric.
And though he had nothing to say on the matter, he too was curious as to why she had shown up here. Fenn prayed that Amari would forget him. He hoped her presence had to do with Nevin and not himself. Man, that redheaded troublemaker, gathering strange visits like small fae gathered shiny trinkets. Catgirls and homomonumonculuses, fae and villains. If Fenn needed some interesting pockets to pick, all he had to do was hang out around the shop.
AND PHI WAS A LOVELY (snoopy) PHAUN.
And Amari could go fuck an icicle.
And Fenn was tired.
Too tired for this. That was always when the strange stuff hit, when you were too exhausted to struggle.
Last edited by FennWenn; 07-02-2018 at 12:26 PM.
