[There's no mistaking that this place is awful. But in some ways it was more tolerable than Kirkwall. That's probably a strange thought to have considering he's apparently bound to turn into a monster, but maybe that says more about Kirkwall than Ryslig.
His feet dig into the soft sand beneath, cooled off as the sun finally set. Claws were just starting to really come out...same thing with his hands. He tries not to think about that though, the alcohol smothering these intrusive thoughts with a blanket of haze so he can instead focus on the cool sand and the breeze, the distant noise of the festival going on further down, and the edge of the waves barely touching his feet.
His thick reptilian tail lazily drags back and forth along the sand in...contentment? Weird thing to feel considering he's on his way to becoming a monster, but he's determined to enjoy whatever time he has left as himself. Before both his mind and body are taken completely. Part of him knows it's the booze, but he doesn't care.
He turns to Rafe, tail swishing about and making a deep line in the sand.]
Call me crazy, but it's a nice night, isn't it?
[He feels crazy for saying it. "Nice night"? He has horns and claws for Maker's sake. But that doesn't change the clear sky, the stars dotting the darkness of the night, and the gentle breeze.
And the company. He very much has come to enjoy Rafe's company. The harsh, unrelentingly blunt man is a strange sort of comfort and he still can't fully explain why.]
not!canon ryslig stuff 👀
His feet dig into the soft sand beneath, cooled off as the sun finally set. Claws were just starting to really come out...same thing with his hands. He tries not to think about that though, the alcohol smothering these intrusive thoughts with a blanket of haze so he can instead focus on the cool sand and the breeze, the distant noise of the festival going on further down, and the edge of the waves barely touching his feet.
His thick reptilian tail lazily drags back and forth along the sand in...contentment? Weird thing to feel considering he's on his way to becoming a monster, but he's determined to enjoy whatever time he has left as himself. Before both his mind and body are taken completely. Part of him knows it's the booze, but he doesn't care.
He turns to Rafe, tail swishing about and making a deep line in the sand.]
Call me crazy, but it's a nice night, isn't it?
[He feels crazy for saying it. "Nice night"? He has horns and claws for Maker's sake. But that doesn't change the clear sky, the stars dotting the darkness of the night, and the gentle breeze.
And the company. He very much has come to enjoy Rafe's company. The harsh, unrelentingly blunt man is a strange sort of comfort and he still can't fully explain why.]