#weightpulled

                    ❛    sure . mind telling me where i can find said cowgirl ?    ❜

    “course i got a plan - who do ya think you’re talkin’ to here?”he winked casually - a calm facade in the face of the impending danger.from across the room, two black beady eyes stared at them - an unmoving shell of copper with six legs.                    while he had said he had a plan - well, he was lying. it was always a tricky defusal when it came to these bastards. this one was especially slippery and evaded any action spent towards it by simply fluttering away like a leaf in the wind.       his mind raced as he tried to think of what to do - when all of a sudden - it hit him. his hand immediately flew to the gun glued to his hip, taking aim. “watch this -”      and with a ringing bang, it was gone. literally. “ah hell.”

Though the winds did snap and buffet beneath the sharp strike of her hand, her palm whistling through the air like an arrow aimed true, the tiger did not flinch. He did not stir, nor rouse, nor flinch at her strike; his breathing, beneath the cool plates of silvered armour, remained calm and even, with nary a hitch nor spark of fear to strike yellow the calm blue of the spirit’s soul.

A moment passed, then a slow intake of breath, a subtle raise of the head. The shining silver of the tiger’s helm, wrought in the likeness of a snarling tiger, shone sweetly in the sunlight, glittering like so many of the gunslinger’s desired prizes. Humour, though an rare-seen cloth upon the beast, swept like honey across his tongue, turning the edges of his lips, unseen behind the silver maw, to a sweet smile.