Posted by Sammael and Atticus on February 6, 2009, 11:11 am, in reply to "sometimes there is freedom; othertimes its slavery"24.116.11.190 He knew someone was coming. How? I am not even really sure. But he knew. His muscles tensed slightly against his sister's side. Was she ready for someone to come? Probably not, but that couldn't be changed now could it? And yet he still knew they were coming. Maybe it was from the strange tickle in his mind that he knew. Someone was there - listening to them. They were unlearned in their gifts, which is probably why he felt them there. She felt them too, but tried to ignore it. She hardly ever embraced anything unless it was Sammael. But she caught sight of the strange colored skeleton. She snorted, her violet eyes burned somewhere deep. You can tippy-tow all you like, but nearly everything will always disturb Atticus. It was her nature after all. His voice was a strange soft squeak. Nothing more. She only glared at him from behind her purple stare. "Hello." The brother replied. Tenderly. Almost wary. The smile did little to truly fool Sammael, but he accepted it all the same. It was clear the stallion's body spoke much louder than his smile. "I am Sammael and this is my sister Atticus." Pleasantries. A necessary evil. She laced her ears as Sammael introduced her. He had a bad habit of doing that when she would much rather keep to herself. 15 Message Thread: sometimes i am home; ZESAB - Sammael February 6, 2009, 1:18 am sometimes we shift; ANYONE - Sammael and Atticus February 6, 2009, 1:25 am sometimes there is freedom; othertimes its slavery - triggerphish February 6, 2009, 2:11 am sometimes we just burn - Sammael and Atticus February 6, 2009, 11:11 am « Back to thread
He knew someone was coming. How? I am not even really sure. But he knew. His muscles tensed slightly against his sister's side. Was she ready for someone to come? Probably not, but that couldn't be changed now could it? And yet he still knew they were coming. Maybe it was from the strange tickle in his mind that he knew. Someone was there - listening to them. They were unlearned in their gifts, which is probably why he felt them there. She felt them too, but tried to ignore it. She hardly ever embraced anything unless it was Sammael. But she caught sight of the strange colored skeleton. She snorted, her violet eyes burned somewhere deep. You can tippy-tow all you like, but nearly everything will always disturb Atticus. It was her nature after all. His voice was a strange soft squeak. Nothing more. She only glared at him from behind her purple stare. "Hello." The brother replied. Tenderly. Almost wary. The smile did little to truly fool Sammael, but he accepted it all the same. It was clear the stallion's body spoke much louder than his smile. "I am Sammael and this is my sister Atticus." Pleasantries. A necessary evil. She laced her ears as Sammael introduced her. He had a bad habit of doing that when she would much rather keep to herself.
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