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What do you think of as you stand there, head and horns pressed against the wood? Do you think of a life where you don't shove your nose into your leather bag every time you're having a few troubles? Do you think of days where you were a well-trained fighting machine, ready at a moment's notice to destroy anything that stood in your way? Do you lament that you're now nothing more than a washed up fighter, require hours or days to get ready, to detox, to have a body that functions when you ask it to, how you ask it to? Or do you think of nothing, except the feeling of back against your flesh, the weight of the orb in your shoulder bag, the gentle breeze that pushes against you? What you certainly do not think of, or care about, is the reasonably loud sound of another beast making his way through all the trees towards you. Screw it. Let them come. With a heavy sigh, you continue pressing your head against the tree, a new string of drool watering it- perhaps an offer of thanks, in that it's holding you up. And then you think you hear the rustling of wings. Interesting. Tree stand up fine without you, the strong, masculine voice offers, breaking the silence that you were actually enjoying, and you grunt your discontent. “Well maybe,” you begin as you lift your head from the bark, turning oh so slowly to face him, voice harsh and gravely, “I don't stand up fine without the tree.” You're being ornery. You'd like to think you snapped at the.... monstrosity that stands before you, but the fact of the matter is that you're so high it probably took you way too long to say just those few words. Then, as if you accent the point that you require the tree's assistance, you sway unsteadily, widening your hooves to a comically large distance just to keep yourself from tumbling over. To help with it, you lower your head, keeping your center of gravity closer to the earth. There's really no reason for the Tribal best to have his wings spread out. You're clearly not in any state to do any damage to anyone other than yourself, or perhaps anyone (hopefully not the orb) unlucky enough to get caught between you and the ground next time you fall down. You do that a lot. Oxy |
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Oxy at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.
Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post
Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post
