Miles from Nowhere [1x1]

[megs]

<div style="text-align:justify;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]<span>    </span>Brows shot up, briefly, before falling to knit tightly above the bridge of his nose. <font color="#cc3300]"Not a shifter,"[/font] he corrected, unnecessarily. It was a bad habit; an argument of semantics bred from old age. Not that Sairus looked as old as he was. Veridian Islanders had never considered themselves the same as other shifters. Perhaps it was pride that caused them to make the distinction; having been a great race long before the first breed of shapeshifters. Or perhaps it was just prejudice. Not that he offered any of this as an explanation. </span>[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]<span>    </span>Intrigue surfaced, regardless of his standoffish nature. She knew about shifters so that was interesting. He looked her over, but didn't offer the same courtesy of keeping his assessment to her face. She was human-looking, but that didn't mean anything, and most humans didn't have eyes like hers. He didn't know what to make of her clothing. It was all strange layers and useless looking clasps. She was going to break an ankle in those shoes. </span>[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]<span>    </span>Her attractiveness might have been noted, if Sairus had ever been skilled at noticing that kind of thing. </span>[/align] <div style="text-align:justify;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]<span>    </span>He only nodded when she questioned the ground. A man of few words overall, tempted to talk only when it really benefited him. He didn't return her smile, either, or tell her that she was welcome, but that was because he was a jerk. Having a categorized her as A Problem did nothing to help his manners. </span>[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]<span>    </span>When she seemed steady enough he released her hand. He shrugged, turning away from her to scan the vicinity. <font color="#cc3300]"To be fair I was a giant wildcat,"[/font] he replied, distractedly, before he pointed in the direction she had been heading, specifically to the bushes she had been close to barreling though. All tall, green stalks with star-like extensions of tiny white flowers. <font color="#cc3300]"I figured I should stop you from walking into that. It's called water hemlock. It's poisonous."[/font] </span>[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]<span>    </span>This time he laughed, sort of. It wasn't an entirely accurate description for the strangled noise he tried to choke back. Useless in the end, because the curled corners of his mouth still gave him away. <font color="#cc3300]"My city?"[/font] he repeated, clawing hands through mud-caked locks. <font color="#cc3300]"My 'city' is twenty-seven thousand miles away from here. Do you not know where you are?"[/font] </span>[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:justify;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]<span>    </span>Sairus already knew the answer, but his questioning was more to access for any sort of trauma. They were quite literally in the middle of the jungle. It would have taken her days to get this far if she'd come from the coast. Even that would have been an impressive feat, since most of Dakannore's edges met the water in giant basalt cliffs. Aside from her now mud-covered footing, she didn't look like she had been on the island any longer than twenty minutes. </span>[/align]