by Greige » Tue Apr 08, 2014 4:34 am
Jackal saunters in, long hair stuck to his face with sweat and a wolfish grin on his face. The sword at his hip is clean of blood, but not the memories of poor, poisoned innards, but the shield in his hand is crackle-finished with dried blood.
He walks to the corner of the diner and leans back against the wall, watching Sal goof around. Jackal laughs, low in the throat, something between amusement and a hungry growl, then realizes that Sleet is nearby. His eyes slit, his grin widens, and he slips in to the suited man's right, swiping at one of the notebooks.
"Bit public for a dear diary, don't cha think?"
"There are secrets even the desert sands cannot hide. All one has to do is dig."
Jackal, aka Paul (real life), aka Ashren (fables), aka "That creepy mannequin at Clockwork Skies"