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Discussion in 'The Hooded Crow Inn [Fiction]' started by Bryelle Vaughn, Jan 1, 2012.

  1. Bryelle Vaughn

    Bryelle Vaughn Journeyman
    Stratics Veteran Alumni

    Oct 4, 2009
    Likes Received:
    “Did I or did I Not tell you not to touch them?”

    Beaming, her aquamarine shoulder length hair bouncing as she moved, Cecilie paused obviously trying to consider her answer. The evidence, a two ton pile of fur at his feet, glared in the mid day of Ter Mur.

    “I didn’t touch a thing.” Her teeth perfectly white and even she brightened her smile with extra oomph.

    Exhaling, Agostino shook his head and tilted his eyes downward on her. “Why is it you insist on going towards things that want to kill you?”

    “Going the other way is boring.”

    It was all she managed to get out before he reached quickly for the smooth wood of the tambourine striking it roughly but with precision timing on his hip. Apparently the overgrown steak at their feet was not alone. Casting the glamour of invisibility, Cecilie slipped just this side of the veil between worlds. When she was sure the animal no longer had her scent she stepped out her fingers throbbing from the electricity as it built in her palms. Her eyes closed, the wind picked up forming the impulses into tornado’s of energy. Agostino’s own gaze intent on the furball, he smiled as the last note rang out and the purple cyclone dispersed atop the second heap of boura.