07-06-2013, 01:00 PM
A pure bred kin of Stag rides up on a horse and it's a good thing Ingrid's still over by the gate. If the smell and the Rage are enough to make it dance in place, proximity to the predator in their midst would surely cause the beast to throw its rider.
As it is, she watches and anyone could tell from her posture if not her face half-hidden by sunglasses that she's unimpressed with the display. And she becomes less impressed by the second. Her head snaps to Jack.
"We weren't expected." It's not a question, it's flat statement. He brought her way out to bumfuck nowhere, uninvited, for...this.
Her head turns toward the man on the horse. Ingrid slides one foot back through the dirt, bends at the waist, throws one arm back in a flamboyant bow. "Apologies for the tresspass." Smoothly, fluidly, the bow becomes a stand becomes a pivot, and the Ragabash is headed back through the gate.
The stench does not lessen with her leaving. It was all Jack. When Ingrid Kim leaves a place, the only thing she leaves behind is the memory of her presence. Sometimes, not even that.
As it is, she watches and anyone could tell from her posture if not her face half-hidden by sunglasses that she's unimpressed with the display. And she becomes less impressed by the second. Her head snaps to Jack.
"We weren't expected." It's not a question, it's flat statement. He brought her way out to bumfuck nowhere, uninvited, for...this.
Her head turns toward the man on the horse. Ingrid slides one foot back through the dirt, bends at the waist, throws one arm back in a flamboyant bow. "Apologies for the tresspass." Smoothly, fluidly, the bow becomes a stand becomes a pivot, and the Ragabash is headed back through the gate.
The stench does not lessen with her leaving. It was all Jack. When Ingrid Kim leaves a place, the only thing she leaves behind is the memory of her presence. Sometimes, not even that.