#stormcub

halsey [ badlands ] / starter sentences.

Not Accepting!

                                   ▌ 𝐒   𝐈   𝐋   𝐀   𝐒   ▌                

╟ ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ◤𝓛𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝓛𝖔𝖘𝖙  ◢ ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ╢

❝ No.. no, you are required to do no such thing.❞

     His voice was stiff, body even moreso. Not in the name of fear, but rather irritation towards the youth. So many stubborn, hard-headed students had crossed the Arch-Mage’s path. Insisting their own thoughts or beliefs to be correct, deliberately disobeying authority or.. (in this case) being difficult for the sake of being difficult. A pain in the ass.

     Yet, in spite of his lack of patience, the High Elf gazed below with no flames flickering behind emerald eyes. Hues entirely dull and unimpressed by the Nord’s childish antics. Lips thinned and head turned, he barely regarded his guest with so much as a glance. The only exit remaining secure, the Dragonborn was quite assured that the boy would be unable to make any grand escape..

His tone changed, gaining a slight edge to it. The Elf’s gaze was now fixed upon Cedric, eyes narrowing dangerously.

❝ But of course, if you have chosen NOT to provide an explanation for your ‘little adventure’ near an Imperial encampment all on your own, with no reinforcements to speak of.. I may be inclined to inform the Jarl of Windhelm of your apparent death wish..❞

Ulfric limped heavily towards Windhelm, leaning on one of his few SURVIVING soldiers. Everything hurt, and he grimaced with every step.

 - -  His breath came in large, rasping gasps, his throat sore from breathing in the smoke. 

Pain blurring his vision, he could barely make out the rather small figure coming toward him, but as he neared, he immediately recognized who it was.

 - -  “ Cedric-- ” Was all that escaped him before a vicious bout of coughing racked his body, hot blood falling from his mouth and staining the snow. 

Oh, what a FORLORN sight he must have been, his hair singed, clothes tattered, fresh wounds still bleeding - he looked several years older than he actually was at the moment.

                              —— ❝  I would BET that the Gods created Skyrim to punish men,  ❞ the wood elf huffs, pulling her winter cloak FURTHER around her lithe frame to quell her EXAGGERATED shivering,  ❝  and yet, you decided to live here by CHOICE; that must have messed up some godly plans.  ❞

                              Nightingale was NEVER fond of venturing further north into the icy fields near Windhelm; if truth be told, she HATED venturing into the hold alone, finding that both the climate and oppressive forces to be a BIT out of her comfort zone. She was a wood elf, found COMFORT in the warmth of the jungles of Valenwood or the marshlands of Black Marsh, and there were spots across this new country which SUITED that. Then there were places like WINDHELM.

With Christmas coming, she had been using her time to shop for her loved ones. It was nearing the final days of the shopping season, but she wanted everything to be perfect. If they asked for it, she made an attempt to find it and buy it for them. Today was no different. 

She walked down the sidewalk, carrying a few various shopping bags in her hands. They were all from the same store, but her day wasn't over. She intended to hit up numerous stores, but then her plans changed. In the back of her head, she could feel a spark -- something from her kind. There was another Time Lord around and she needed to find out who it was. 

It took Gwen a few moments to become aware of the other presence in the room, and was alerted to the fact only by the sound of footsteps coming from behind her. Turning around with as pleasant a smile as she could master, she greeted the newcomer with a bright tone to her voice. "Hello there! Apologies, I did not realise you were here."