Merlin, he looked as though he was being hunted. Porphyria was not, herself, entirely unfamiliar with the sensation, though she liked to think that in her experience as a ‘debutante’ – she had only ever accepted the term very loosely to begin with – she had long since graduated from being anyone’s prey.
“Oh dear,” Phyri exclaimed, letting her eyes discreetly sweep the room in search of the hunter. She had to laugh at his remark about the hag – though she suspected he merely meant a woman, and not the actual child-eating sort (the latter would have been an interesting use of an invitation) – with a touch of sympathy, but more than a little amusement at his discomfort. Forget damsels in distress, then: apparently it was the poor pitiable society-minded bachelors one needed to worry about after all.
“Oh, I never hide,” she said brightly, feeling self-satisfied at how the tables had turned for once, and left her life choices on top. “When you cultivate the sort of peculiar standing as I do, it becomes very easy,” she explained. “People are about as likely to approach me as they are oncoming stormclouds.”
Which was how she liked it, naturally. “So perhaps I shall scare her off from you for a while by proximity,” Porphyria offered magnanimously, about the woman evidently after him. That said, if she was going to take pity on Mr. Foxwood and extend herself as a sort of antisocial umbrella, she most certainly wanted to gloat a little more about his distress. “But whatever did she say or do to earn such scorn from you?”
“Oh dear,” Phyri exclaimed, letting her eyes discreetly sweep the room in search of the hunter. She had to laugh at his remark about the hag – though she suspected he merely meant a woman, and not the actual child-eating sort (the latter would have been an interesting use of an invitation) – with a touch of sympathy, but more than a little amusement at his discomfort. Forget damsels in distress, then: apparently it was the poor pitiable society-minded bachelors one needed to worry about after all.
“Oh, I never hide,” she said brightly, feeling self-satisfied at how the tables had turned for once, and left her life choices on top. “When you cultivate the sort of peculiar standing as I do, it becomes very easy,” she explained. “People are about as likely to approach me as they are oncoming stormclouds.”
Which was how she liked it, naturally. “So perhaps I shall scare her off from you for a while by proximity,” Porphyria offered magnanimously, about the woman evidently after him. That said, if she was going to take pity on Mr. Foxwood and extend herself as a sort of antisocial umbrella, she most certainly wanted to gloat a little more about his distress. “But whatever did she say or do to earn such scorn from you?”
a sublime set by Lady! <3