[ if you shine a light at a deer, it stops stock-still; refuses motion. perhaps it's bewilderment: the sudden flare of daylight beneath stars. or maybe it's a sort of will, its great crested skull frozen with the business of hope. belief. if one is certain enough in their safety, who's to say it isn't so?
well, anyone with a fucking sword.
isaac doesn't freeze, does start; a jolt that begins at the eyes and finds his feet before brain. instinct carries him down a step — but there's no fear in his face. his hands dust loose in gesture, tuck cigarette back into sleeve.
courtesies. ]
Commander, [ up, again, a boot ground discreetly into dropped spark. ] In truth, I'd not expect much more of it. We're halfway to spring.
no subject
well, anyone with a fucking sword.
isaac doesn't freeze, does start; a jolt that begins at the eyes and finds his feet before brain. instinct carries him down a step — but there's no fear in his face. his hands dust loose in gesture, tuck cigarette back into sleeve.
courtesies. ]
Commander, [ up, again, a boot ground discreetly into dropped spark. ] In truth, I'd not expect much more of it. We're halfway to spring.