the last daughter of the shadow-grin
female | eight | 38 inches | 100 pounds | no heart | no soul | gypsy loner
She is older, but she has no fear of the winter months like some women might when caught on their own in Moladion. To call Moladion dangerous was, as to her, like comparing New York City with Mexico. Sure, there was crime, murder, and desperate people… but one was literally carried on the back of crime and one merely had a lot of it.
Nanrua was unkind to any but the most brutal, which is perhaps why she is able to be so free of spirit here. The oppressiveness of her home culture simply didn’t provide her with the tools to react normally to the dangers of this one.
What she sees is a lightly tattered and older wolf closer to her age, though that tattered state only made him the more appealing. What barbarian culture or at least warlike culture wouldn’t find those scars and his long life to be sensual in some way, after all? It is also the way that he eyes her, that he pays her beauty due attention. Some might have shrunk back from it, but truly, what better compliment was there than the open and unabashed relishing of her form and poise?
It is in her nature to be more put out that he would not make spectacle of his consumeristic type stare, taking offense that all nature’s hard work and all her own hard work was not worth mention or notice. It is not vanity, it is righteous expectation. She lets him, though she does not necessarily preen or show off a best foot forward (again, it isn’t vanity, just honest beauty), and gives him the same.
He is not beautiful as she is, not in the conventional sense… but in her and any visceral opinion, he is as handsome as one could hope to have after many years of not eating from a silver spoon.
“Sidhe...” She hears her name again, though the rest he says is meant to reassure her (for good or ill) that her concern was misplaced.
“Gul.” Her response is short and her head tilts in a greeting way,
She rotates to better face him now, intrigue clear in her manner as she does this. Why go off in search of an adventure when one may well be sitting and fairly keenly tuned in to her right now?
“Well, Gul, Why does it seem as though you have been collecting dust around these old caves? Does not seem fitted to one of your… physical character.”
