hello, gorgeous.

the sun's reach deepened into the realm, peeling back the impenetrable fog. the girl-thing was rather excited over this development and fell quick into adventuring.

shirking familiarity in order to delve deep into the unknown. the natives she had met at the pit stirred the embers, invoking a feeling that told her there was more to this amaryllis than what the eye could see and what the heart could know. camelia was in want to know. in want to discover, and see. she sped into the bog, without true mind of what there would be. the muck gathered at her pale ankles, climbing her shortened limbs and pulling at her tail. she groaned and giggled as her steps squelched and gurgled in the bog.

ahead, between the sway of foliage and just above the muck she found it. something solid. something more traversable than the never ending mess that seemed to be hungry for the flesh of little lion cub. the fog was not nearly as dense as it had been, but she was certain she'd seen it. a log, a bridge. she worked along the peat-laden shore, attempting to find the length of fallen tree that would serve her better for this exploration.

_{trade: explore and find something useful.}

_{ART — BG — CODE}

OOC: I chose Ángeles because I feel like they can sass each other ;3 Now, now, let’s not fall into clichés. Witches and swamps are SO last season. Ángeles had always been way more…glamourous. But never actually blessed with a superb sense of direction. So, here she was, getting in touch with her more primitive side. You know how the tourists LOVE that whole voodoo crap. A little accent, a little spectacle…and a whole lot of meat and trinkets for Mami to bring home. Ah, do what you love, and you never have to work a day in your life, am I right? But soon, just as she was attempting to sharpen her nails on the rotten flesh of a fallen tree, bored beyond recognition, came a girl. Fresh as a daisy, couldn’t be more than a couple months past or prior to her first birthday. Hey, don’t blame her…she can’t tell kid ages. Ángeles’s dark brows arched on her face, her eyes clear and watchful…yet injected with a sort of mirth. What better way to pass the time than to enjoy some girly chit chat? Just think of her as a biiig sister. Of course her advice might be slightly unorthodox. She tugged her claws out of the slimy bark, a task which is quite harder than it looks, and stepped onto the tree as if she were stepping onto a catwalk. Her tail trailed behind her like swirling silks, ears pressed forward on her head. “¿Pero qué estais buscando?//What are you looking for?” @Camelia "Speech" Sentir que resucito si me tocas

Huh? She belched, a disbelieving noise as she peered up towards @Ángeles. The words she’d spoken came fast past those lips yet elicited nothing familiar. She furrowed her brows in contemplation, pulling herself from the muck. Her hindquarters scrambled for footing, giving ginger shakes to loosen what muck dare to continue to fetter her as she worked to join Angeles on her catwalk. She was gladdened by the sturdiness underfoot, and having found something better than surly bog water and the unknown depths of the bog. I’m Camelia, she began quietly as though this were truly what the other had asked of her. If not, Camelia was gladdened for any company, and ears to talk off. She hummed thoughtfully, casting a quick glance to her new friend. What did all that mean? She chirped, trying to find a steady foot on the beam, err, tree. She looked across the bog, tracing this makeshift bridge and the direction it could take her.

Ah. This little song and dance. After wandering around, through thick jungle and endless savannah, through blue-toned mountains and flower-studded valleys…it becomes quite easy to believe the voice in your head is in fact the only one that exists. Or in this case, that the language that little voice speaks is the only one that exists. Ángeles bit her lip, her furrowed brow spelling out each and every one of her internal thoughts, before giving @Camelia a lopsided smile. Half-smirky, half-sweet. “Uh,” she tapped one sharp little claw on the rotting wood, “I asked…what are you searching for?” There was an uneasiness to her voice, as if she were worried about the log giving out beneath her. Her brain slowly bringing out the puzzle pieces in front of her, and slamming them together with an almost frightening force. “Camelia,” she eyed the other girl inquisitively, standing there as the little lioness glanced about her, “in honor of the flower?” Ooops. Was she in her way? How naughty… “I am called Ángeles, in honor of the angels.” The dark woman shrugged nonchalantly; her head turned slightly to the side as if pensive. “You suit your name much better than I suit mine.” "Speech" Sentir que resucito si me tocas

oh! she piped, as though this was the most savoury thing to have been tasted. a new language, a new frame of perception. it made her feel droll, and boring and @Ángeles all the more exciting to have met. The question though, still needed be answered. It was only polite. a bridge, to get across this... swamp.

Like the flower. No, she said it much nicer than that. In honour of. She had so many pretty words and Camelia could but gobble them up as they were given. The flower. It hung there, beating against her heart. My ma's favourite. she acknowledged, however growing suspicious of the other and how much their bridge could hold. her eyes fixed themselves on her then, inquisitively. which way do we go?

I think you suit yours, she offered. With some borrowed bravery, she sweetened it with an earnest grin. Cheek to cheek. With a thoughtful sigh, she tested her weight on the log with a tepid tap on the sodden wood.

Might be smart to keep moving. But you know. Sometimes it's better to sit and see how things fall together, or apart.

what part does buscando mean?


_{+5 Learn about a new language}

It wasn’t…usual, you know? To meet someone who was not afraid of that which was foreign, that which did not align with their goals and desires…despite the fact that deep in their gut they knew it was right. That…was perhaps the scariest part for them. And such a passionate fear, well, she didn’t exactly get these scars because they made her look pretty. Though it was MIGHTY fun to “embellish” the story of how exactly they came to adorn her face. Wild hippopotamus attack, anyone? No, THREE hippopotamuses! “Oh,” her ears pricked up, Ángeles looked around as if realizing she was in the middle of a swamp for the first time, “where you going?” Surely, there had to be somewhere better to spend an afternoon than this…dump. If she played nice, maybe Cami here would let her tag along? For not being a people person, she was pretty good at road trip conversation. Ángeles’s mouth twitched into a half smile, “it is a very precious name.” It took her a bit to notice the girl’s pointed look, you know, the whole not being a people person thing, but she managed to waddle backwards and dismount. Whatever destination she had in mind had suddenly…vanished into thin air. “You first, señorita.” What, she could be nice when she wanted to! She suffers from resting imp face, that’s all. At the girl’s compliment, the woman’s brows arched quizzically. “You have to get to know me first, I am a lot more fun.” A little devil, a little angel. Diablangel just doesn’t sound as catchy. “Searching. Buscar is to search for something.” @Camelia "Speech" Sentir que resucito si me tocas