(no subject)

[sworntoalostgod.livejournal.com]

"Um..."

Oliver stares at a section of statues in the art hall. They show a young man in a white Victorian-era military uniform - gold buttons, two silver stripes on the lapel. White flame surrounds him; running from it are red-eyed rats the size of Dobermans.

The young man is blonde. Oliver is blonde. But the young man is far too all American action-hero-ish for Oliver to relate it to himself.

"If I ever looked like that, I'll eat my hat," Oliver mutters, shaking his head in disbelief.

Comments

[compromise-wolf.livejournal.com]

"Stay that way," she huffs at him, her ears pricking forward as she straightens again, then drops back down onto all fours. She shifts back into lupus, shaking herself out.

[sworntoalostgod.livejournal.com]

Oliver responds with an irritated sigh, and turns to leave the art room.

Behind him, the statues show our blonde-haired hero, wiping out an entire murder of crowskins with white fire that shoots from his blazing sword.

[compromise-wolf.livejournal.com]

She eyes the statues for a moment, ears pinning back as she glances towards Oliver. "Wyrm-ridden?" she asks herself quietly, then snorts, licking at her muzzle.

She'll have to report this to the rest of the group.

[sworntoalostgod.livejournal.com]

Oliver manages to catch the words. He hesitates -she did just tell him to be quiet - but then she did ask a question.

He's still walking to the exit as he says, "Demons."

[compromise-wolf.livejournal.com]

"I meant you," she snaps, hackling again. "Go."

[sworntoalostgod.livejournal.com]

He flashes her a offended glare - mistaking a Godsworn for a demon, only a beast would think that way - before he goes.