Who: Marlow et Issac What: Chattin' about stuffs. When: November 2, during the moving day celebration. Where: Issac's trailer Rating: Low.
Marlow leaned back against the wall, sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up and her sketchbook opened across them. She made little doodles across the page, pausing briefly to smile up at Issac. "When I said I'd come with you to the dinner, I thought you'd be ready." With a chuckle, she shook her head, but didn't actually mind that they hadn't made it there yet. She was happy to hang out with him. To talk. They hadn't done much of that lately, but then, the past few days had been such a whirlwind. She was still catching her breath.
She also hadn't been very talkative, throwing in comments here and there on the network, but for the most part she kept to herself. She still scrolled through the posts, though, and she couldn't help but notice how...manic Issac seemed to be. Well. More than usual. It was a thing she thought about, ever since she'd walked in on his nightmare and bore witness to the terrible thing living inside his head. The Issac she'd tried to protect there, broken and anguished, had been a startling contrast to the burst of smiling energy she knew.
Even now, no one would ever know it just by looking at him, the darkness that plagued his mind. How much of his sunny demeanor was a facade then? Was he putting on an act right now?
It is hard to walk when the ground shakes and rocks fall.
"You really like the Wild Hunt?" she asked curiously.