‘ you look like shit. ’
ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ | ᵃ ʷʳᵃᶤᵗʰ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉᵃᵗʰᵉʳ
A low snarl is given in answer but there isn’t his usual bite in it, muted just as much as the rest of his movements. It’s a clear acknowledgment of the words but it’s not a welcome one considering the narrowed eyes that are directed at him also. The wraith is more than aware he’s not up to par today. Or yesterday. And most likely not in the immediate future. If given the option, Reaper would have simply disappeared until this is all over.
Whatever this is.
“Oh no. Are you saying I won’t be able to compete in the Talon beauty pageant anymore?” Ah, there’s some teeth to his words, coated lightly with sarcasm. Couldn’t let just anyone call him out on looking a right monstrous mess without some sort of fight given back.
