>>5696736>>5695959>rush — shrubbery He doesn’t need the cloak right now. Sira steadies his breathing and narrows his vision. His fingers uncurl and colors begin to seep from this world. Time slows down. Leaves no longer flutter in the wind. His hand clenches.
While Sira’s aim was precise enough that they are completely covered up by the bushes when they reappear, he realizes too late of the leaves’ effects on his hair.
Cowlicks and wayward strands appear on the top of his head. Shards of leaves and flakes of wood gets embedded in his hair. Branches and jumble of leaves seemingly tug on the locks around his nape and ears, as if annoyed by his intrusion. Much like a dog drying itself, Sira shakes his head a few times before they finally become free.
arugh. i really should have kept it in a ponytailBoon fares somewhat better due to keeping her hair in a bun. A few tufts of hair are flicked up while others hang loose on her forehead. She swipes some of it back into place while poking her head through the bushes.
'Urgh….'
All the grooming they done in the morning vanishes in an instant. They definitely need a bath after this.
The two instinctively duck back into shrubbery once they see the front door move. Through the veil of leaves, they can see four or five servants with rakes and washing paddles.
A sharp turn of their heads reveal their awareness of the newly formed leaf piles. As they descend down the porch, his fingers clasped hers.
Every footstep felt longer than the previous. With every moment that passes, it becomes harder to keep track of the servants. Their expressions and posture begins to change ever so slightly as they move closer to the side of the hose.
now. 