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She doesn't remember much, there seem to be blanks in her memory. No matter, she's back in the mortal plain trying to figure out what unfinished business she had here. She was an unrested soul. Unluckily for...
"You only live twice: Once when you're born and once when you look death in the face." –Ian Fleming
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
＊POV: Third Person＊
"Cuyler..."
Silence fell over the cabin and it felt as if the world had stopped, the spirit couldn't hear anything. She simply looked at the blon– she looked at Cuyler, her mouth slightly agape she slowly uncurled, forgetting her pain and stared at him. The fire's light poured onto him making his golden blonde hair shine and highlighting his sky blue eyes, his cheeks were faintly dusted in pink and he avoided her eyes like the plague, and then... She felt a small beating sensation in her chest.
"Cuyler." She whispered to herself but it got the blondes attention and now both were simply staring at each other. She saw the blonde blush go from a faint pink to a more vivid shade and she felt as if her face grew warmer... Warmer, she felt warmer, she liked that.
Then she snorted and said "That's a stupid name" immediately Cuyler's face dropped into one of annoyance.
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"Better than being called 'Spruce' who's named after a tree?!" He retorted, snapping at the spirit, this only made her laugh more enjoying the blonde's irritated expression.
"Whatever you say CuYleR." She mocked.
"Why in the gods' names did I tell you."
"Because you felt bad that I got hurt." She said in a degrading baby voice.
"Is that so? I felt bad, for you?" He got up and walked away.
"Aww did I make blondie angry." She laughed at her own words, he suddenly re-emerged with the sword that got her in this situation "What," she let out a chuckle "What are you going to do with that?" Her laughter died down growing slightly concerned as to why Cuyller was now holding a sword.
"You think I care that you got hurt?" He said now looming over her sword in hand, and the spirits brow furrowed at his words not being particularly pleased with his tone. In one swift move he put the sword to her neck and Spruce grew rigid at the feeling. He leaned close to her face, his expression being neutral, and said "Because I'll show you how little I really care about you, Spruce."
Cold, she suddenly felt really cold, this feeling wasn't pleasant, she didn't like it at all. She knew this was a threat and she knew this could potentially kill her (again...) yet she couldn't help the following words which slipped out her mouth so fast she barely had time to register them.
"Then kill me." Her mind was screaming at her but her body seemed to follow her mouth as she pressed herself against the sword. To this the Cuyler's eyes widened, not expecting this reaction, his face went dark and Spruce could no longer read his expression. He got up and raised the sword. He positioned himself ready to swing it and chop her head clean off. Although she no longer had a physical heart it felt as if she still had one since the spirit could feel the sensation of her chest pounding with anticipation. She slowly closed her eyes, her face appearing peaceful but her soul full of fear.
