Hot on the Trail || Steam Powered Giraffe
"Gods, what the hell were you thinking?!" She shouted, but the kind where there's an edge -- Shaking and curling up at the ends where the concern shone through brightly, as she gently touched a pad saturated in disinfectant to one of the many lacerations that littered the brown bloods face.
Thread let out a slight hiss at the sting, but did all that she could to smile through her swollen and bruised lower lip. "Concern is a good color on you, love."
The fuchsia turned her head with a huff, clearly hiding the beginnings of a blush. She didn't look away for long though, her eyes were drawn back to Thread seconds later searching for any bumps or knicks she might have missed in her preliminary cleaning. She was always thorough that way.
"Please tell me what happened." Her voice was much softer this time, concern overtaking whatever kneejerk anger reponse her caste was predisposed too. She never liked seeming to abrasive, said it was way too typical for fuchsia to be that way.
"And if I said I tripped and fell?" Thread finally broke the silence that blanketed the room, one that for her was just a few seconds but she knew for her darling matesprit was an eternity.
"Oh if only it were ever that simple with you." She wore a tired smile now, a smile that Thread new all to well meant she was done dancing around the subject.
Thread let out a quick breathless laugh. "Okay, but you should see the other guy. Really!" Finally, though, she took her partners hand into hers and looked deeping into those fuchsia eyes -- They welled with concern, she looked like she would cry any moment now.
Thread knew she was a slave to those eyes, she could tell those eyes anything and everything.
Never everything.
As much as she wanted to.
"Nothing too crazy. Saw a guy picking on a lower blood." She said simply, with a shrug.
"Lower than you?"
"Well! No. You know what I meant."
"If they were higher in caste than you, what stopped for defendint themselves?"
"I don't know. Cowardice? Purple bloods are --"
"Purple!" Finally, she let go of Threads hands, throwing her own up in frustration. "You're out here fighting purple bloods! You're not a vigilante Thread!"
"Thread, I can't keep doing this." Oh no. Tears. Thread never knew what to do about tears. "Every evening I'm worried I'll wake up to your head on a pike. You're so reckless these days.."
Thread winced at the thought. "Well, maybe if the seadwellers who lived around here would do something to make it a little safer! But know you're too scared of clowns and ohh the politics of it all!"
As soon as the words left her mouth she wanted to reach out and pull them out of the air, she could swallow her tongue right now if it'd help.
Arguing was so unproductive!
It was too late though, a scandalized look took over her matesprits features, she even recoiled as if shot.
"You know we're doing what we can. It's delicate! It's a delicate situation."
"It's not enough. It'll never be enough if you keep following their rules."
"We'll talk about it tomorrow." She spoke through gritted teeth as she continued to clean Threads wounds.
Tomorrow never comes, Thread thought with a sigh. "As usual."