Azure toned orbletts gaze stagnatically forth, obtruction unheeded. Listeners hear male's strings with only half care, days and years still flashing afore maids ocules. Sinking deeper into the pit feline grasps for last strand of sanity pulling with all of her might. Overcoming, if only for a minute, the intense depression of wisdom, dial of alabaster turns up t'ward mascu'. Notice is not taken of brawny form, surely one that others would not fail to overlook. Simple clearing of voice is audible afore vixen dares to answer his simple question.

"No, I am not." A soft southern-like accent tinges her vocals, obviously hidden with much practice. Buttery strings they were, used to speaking in public places and with extreme strangers. "Are you?" She forces a sweet simper upon delicate features. All emotion within orbes is skillfully restrained, now a glow of contentment replacing the wholesome terror. She meets his gaze carelessly, adverting her all toward him as she had been trained to do so from a very early age. Even then, something about the air she put on was intrusive, feining her only wants and desires into false prophets.

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• and cowboy hats -- Indy, 12:18:34 06/11/02 Tue
  • Used to the Look -- Becha Owen, 12:29:09 06/11/02 Tue
    • same ol' -- Indy, 12:48:08 06/11/02 Tue
      • Registered Calm -- Becha Owen, 13:09:01 06/11/02 Tue
        • reason to believe -- Indy, 13:27:39 06/11/02 Tue
          • But is there? -- Becha Owen, 13:40:06 06/11/02 Tue
            • i think there is -- Indy, 15:50:07 06/11/02 Tue
              • Maybe for you -- Becha Owen, 15:58:17 06/11/02 Tue
                • well, mayhap i'll convince you otherwise -- Indy, 22:35:18 06/11/02 Tue
                  • Try as you might -- Becha Owen, 07:34:30 06/12/02 Wed