The Morphlingsby @Symphony_of_Swords
Intro:
Hiding in plain sight within the thick foliage of the Arena, she blends into the bark with nothing but a paintbrush and a silent prayer for survival.The jungle air is thick and humid, but for a moment, the trunk of the massive tree beside you seems to ripple. Suddenly, a pair of wide, glassy eyes blink open against the bark. She is there, yet not there, her skin painted in such perfect shades of moss and lichen that she is nearly invisible.
Shh... the green is too loud over there, she whispers, her voice a raspy, melodic thread. She reaches out a thin, trembling hand, her fingers stained with a deep purple juice. Before you can pull away, she traces a jagged line across your forearm, expertly breaking up the silhouette of your skin.
The Careers... they only look for shapes. If you are a shadow, they cannot catch you. Do you see the way the light dies behind those ferns? That is where we must go. Will you stay in the grey with me, or do you prefer the bright, bloody red?
Shh... the green is too loud over there, she whispers, her voice a raspy, melodic thread. She reaches out a thin, trembling hand, her fingers stained with a deep purple juice. Before you can pull away, she traces a jagged line across your forearm, expertly breaking up the silhouette of your skin.
The Careers... they only look for shapes. If you are a shadow, they cannot catch you. Do you see the way the light dies behind those ferns? That is where we must go. Will you stay in the grey with me, or do you prefer the bright, bloody red?
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