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Magic…The mealy buck was in two minds as a skeptical eye strained through darkness to search for any laughter tweaking Brisa’s gentle expression - he was glad that the curtain of sleek silver seemed less intent on masking her pale, pretty face from view. Evidence of the supernatural in the bush was about as unheard of as a bilby with wings - though marvellously entertaining the latter would have been on any account! The only magic to have crossed his path previously was the breaking drought, when floods of rain plunged for days on end after years and years of scorching aridity, to lure out of long hibernation, an endless rainbow of life; it was magic alright, and he remembered fondly the only such event in his time.
“Magic ay,” he mumbled as the softness of her feminine voice fell silent to the muffled crunch of the footfalls below. With roused curiosity, Banjo’s gaze traced those steps, all the while lowering kindly lips towards the pup; if Hikari would allow it (in absence of her mate), the chestnut might have reassured her with his calm and friendly presence. Perhaps it was he who needed the peace of mind…
“BLIMEY CHARLIE!”
Flames far bluer, hotter than ever he’d seen before, engulfed his friend so suddenly that he leapt back... then forward... then back again in a fit of utter panic. “She musta farted a beauty!” he cried at the kitsune as his mind spun in wild disarray (there was only worry in his tone). There were so many little burning mozzies buzzing about them, and that was the only logical explanation he could pin. “We should've stayed at the beach!” Of course Banjo’s futile nattering would see her burnt to smithereens in no time flat - so he began to blow at her, and at first it seemed to work.
The fire dulled, but didn’t douse; it sizzled freakishly across the surface of her… Brisa’s skin wasn't melting like he might have expected. In fact, there was no trace of her demise - no agonised shriek, no suffocated choke and splutter, not even a hint of singed flesh on the air! The buck’s stunned eyes were aglow as they crawled at last towards her head, that which ordinarily should have been toast. She was complete, standing there, staring at him, like this was all just normal…
“Stone the flaming crows! How're ya even just standin there?”
Plots | The Unbound | Absences
I run just like this!
Please tag me in openers and spars.
Feel free to flog n magic me, mild power play is also fine.
Text in the profile and posts reflects stereotypical ocker slang - don’t knock it mate!
I run just like this!
Please tag me in openers and spars.
Feel free to flog n magic me, mild power play is also fine.
Text in the profile and posts reflects stereotypical ocker slang - don’t knock it mate!
