Date: 2025-04-07 07:04 pm (UTC)
verynormalturnipseller: (judgmental)
No idea what a Vegas is, but it's apparently low to the ground. "When the snow starts to melt in summer. The rocks are jagged and the streambeds are deep." He sounds fondly nostalgic for a moment. That fond affection for a homeland generally dead set on killing you.

And then he's got nothing left to do here. Husk has never been unfriendly, exactly, but he doesn't have the most inviting way about him, either. Or maybe he's just regular nervous. It's a fraught moment for him. Better to retreat before he can mess it up, maybe ? But he was invited. He tips his head in the direction of a bow, though it's still plausibly a nod. "I hope it's what you remember?" He sits after a beat too long, stiff but only in his formal, anxious way so far, not specifically upset.
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bartenderbitch: (Default)
Husk

May 2025

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