[She will not look at him. She has already decided that she will not, and Hayame was nothing if not stubborn to the point of self-sabotage. She must memorize each enemy face before this realm of the spirit fades, she is only halfway through...
But her vision is darkening in the corners, she can't focus, all she can hear is this man's voice in her ears, so very sure, so damned confident in his rightness... Hayame has no nails to dig into the skin of her palms, she cuts them to the quick so as not to snag or wear on her bowstrings, but if she did...]
How dare you claim to share my fate?
[When her voice creeps out past the harsh grit of her teeth, it is dark and fell, weighted with every indignity and slight, both real and perceived, that she has suffered since she awoke in this world. Of which... There were many.]
You who walk on two legs like everyone else here.... whose only crime is freakish height, you think you understand me?
[Her tail quivers with anger, her hackles and the vestigial remnants of man that runs between her withers and halfway up her more human-looking spine rising. Ever since she had come to this place she had been reminded every day that she did not belong. No one looked like she did, walked like she did, lived like she did, in a body that needed a glamor just to blend in attempting to shop or travel. No one was stared at in Godsblood like she was, struggled on the vine rope and wood bridges connecting the buildings of Greentruth like she did. Especially not this-]
You, who still look like a man, presume this?
[She means it both ways, both as a male and as someone who looks far more human than she does. Still defiantly not looking in his direction, no matter how she wants to wrap her hands around his neck or since him in a different way... Hayame spits the words out one by one, heavy and full of blame.
Actually, she spits, dismissively and disrespectfully upon the ground, as if to clear her mouth of the taste of his presumption.]
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But her vision is darkening in the corners, she can't focus, all she can hear is this man's voice in her ears, so very sure, so damned confident in his rightness... Hayame has no nails to dig into the skin of her palms, she cuts them to the quick so as not to snag or wear on her bowstrings, but if she did...]
How dare you claim to share my fate?
[When her voice creeps out past the harsh grit of her teeth, it is dark and fell, weighted with every indignity and slight, both real and perceived, that she has suffered since she awoke in this world. Of which... There were many.]
You who walk on two legs like everyone else here.... whose only crime is freakish height, you think you understand me?
[Her tail quivers with anger, her hackles and the vestigial remnants of man that runs between her withers and halfway up her more human-looking spine rising. Ever since she had come to this place she had been reminded every day that she did not belong. No one looked like she did, walked like she did, lived like she did, in a body that needed a glamor just to blend in attempting to shop or travel. No one was stared at in Godsblood like she was, struggled on the vine rope and wood bridges connecting the buildings of Greentruth like she did. Especially not this-]
You, who still look like a man, presume this?
[She means it both ways, both as a male and as someone who looks far more human than she does. Still defiantly not looking in his direction, no matter how she wants to wrap her hands around his neck or since him in a different way... Hayame spits the words out one by one, heavy and full of blame.
Actually, she spits, dismissively and disrespectfully upon the ground, as if to clear her mouth of the taste of his presumption.]