“rodney.” she repeats, air coming out as she uses her voice, slightly hoarse.
“you... smell like... mint and the... sun.” she's rather creepy, just a little bit perhaps, or a lot, depends on who you ask. blueish, purple and gray tones covered her features, healed sutures
perhaps he won’t slay this one.
mercy won this round, a sigh of annoyance took over his breath.
rodney would roll his shoulders as he
placed his knife back in the sheathe.
“ rodney. rod for short. ”
removing the mask, he’d fold his arms.