(Untitled)

[a_gunslinger]

Once upon a time.

It doesn't look so different from where he went to earth. In the half-light of the morning -- facing west, he is, true west, the world is still covered in indigo at this hour of the morning, with traceries of brighter things at the edges

Comments

[ofthatantet]

For that matter--whatever she may have looked like when she left home, hours ago, Rose Toren no longer looks like a princess. She looks like what she is; someone who is no longer sure exactly how many throats she has cut in the course of the night.

She reacts to the motion first, and recognizes the ( tentacle-free) face a split second later; barely a twitch of the blade.

"Seriously?"

[a_gunslinger]

Roland Deschain tilts his head to the right.

He removes his hat.

[ofthatantet]

...seriously.

"Can you--" Deep breath. "Can you move please? I have to kill someone."

Everything else comes later.

[a_gunslinger]

"You have to kill someone."

He hasn't spoken aloud since leaving Wyoming.

The words come out graveled, and deeply so. They lack inflection. He's certainly not amused -- Rose Toren is a gunslinger, after all, and if she says she has to kill someone...

It's at least a claim worth taking seriously.

But Roland doesn't move.