⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ִֶָ𓂃٠🕯️ིྀ⭑ 𝘈𝘓𝘓 E͟NDE͟D͟ 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 ... ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
fandomless oc. mv. mdni. ddne.
Joined August 2012
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her head tilts at the greeting, bird - like. lips shape silently around the word as it leaves the other’s lips as if she knew it were to come.
“ good morrow, ” her own airy voice rasps —- delicate as spidersilk from disuse.
“ are you an angel of death ? ”
the breeze that sends tendrils of flaxen locks cascading over her features carries a heady floral scent —- one that stands out amongst potent fluids one might shed at the end of their life. Isolde straightens at once, turning her head in the direction of the scent.
fire - veined. steel - skinned.
she presses a palm to warm earth —- the soil has eaten blood. tasted battle. recently.
hands out, steps slow —- hoping to gently prod for a spider’s web before running into it face - first.
she does not wish to destroy such laborious, beautiful work.
