[a rough snort, at that bold shrug, although with less derision than he's been known to snort with; after all, he knows it's fearless, wonders how she got like that (he knows which one he is, and that it's not the same)]
[he follows those bright blues after a moment, the tip of that pale-blonde head]
[do you know the constellations? he'd been asked, and he'd spat venom in return]
[the stars seem far away, unimportant and too lofty, compared to the stressful grind of now and here, of the answers he needs to know but can't find out, of the pump of sick blood and the gnash of too-sharp teeth that comprise Badou's every waking fucking moment]
[from the stars' angle, from the sky's angle, though, he guesses -- those are the unimportant things]
[he's not a bird, and he's never entertained flight; the sky makes him fearful and exposed in the daylight. but the night sky...]
[the night sky isn't home either, but it isn't as bad.]
Re: action
[he follows those bright blues after a moment, the tip of that pale-blonde head]
[do you know the constellations? he'd been asked, and he'd spat venom in return]
[the stars seem far away, unimportant and too lofty, compared to the stressful grind of now and here, of the answers he needs to know but can't find out, of the pump of sick blood and the gnash of too-sharp teeth that comprise Badou's every waking fucking moment]
[from the stars' angle, from the sky's angle, though, he guesses -- those are the unimportant things]
[he's not a bird, and he's never entertained flight; the sky makes him fearful and exposed in the daylight. but the night sky...]
[the night sky isn't home either, but it isn't as bad.]