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03-20-2014, 06:01 PM
OBERON
We must be killers, children of the wild ones.
We must be killers, children of the wild ones.
I have to admit it, this gal gave me the creeps from here to wherever Helo-what-now ended. She has this sultry look, like a cat about to eat her young. I am not a lassie. One thing was damn sure, I wasn't about to ask her for some bloody cream. For my own safety and with the help of a little experience, I keep my mouth shut as she erratically decides to sidle closer. Predators do not listen to the blatant backtalk of backwater boys. That sounds like one hell of an insult coming from the mouth of this gal, naturally I would take offense if I bloody knew what it meant. But hey, you gotta appreciate a woman with a little teeth. Me-ow.
I only get so far before the mare distorts her attention, and it's only after a while I catch the sight of a bronzed stallion as he drifts through the clearing like the smoke from a fired barrel; out of darn nothing and some air. Never leaving lassie out of my sight; you know, just in case she decides to take a bite, I merely watch him as he inches closer to her. Two is a company, three’s a crowd was apparently nothing this bloke had ever heard of. With a scrutinizing gaze mixed with a little piss-off-will-yah I study him as they, seemingly familiar with each other, exchange a few quick courtesies that I don’t really pick up on. I seem to have a habit of coming short of caring, I think it's called nonchalance.
Sometimes I can’t help, but enjoy mornings like these though. The only drawback is that they come at such an inconvenient time of the day. Like this sober looking bronco over here, staring at me like some guy feeding arsenic to his rich aunt. I nevertheless, out of some needless necessity called manners, flash him a short-lived grin of acknowledgement.
Does the shadow interloper intend to find a place to rest his head, or would he go on his way to be devoured by soft-hearted paladins and weak-kneed cravens?" I cock my head at her with a questioning glance, a smolder stretching ever so slightly at the edge of my chops. Was it just me or did that sound .. suggestive? “Depends on the proposal.”
OOC; So sorry for the looong delay! @[Confutatis] @[Cyrus]
I only get so far before the mare distorts her attention, and it's only after a while I catch the sight of a bronzed stallion as he drifts through the clearing like the smoke from a fired barrel; out of darn nothing and some air. Never leaving lassie out of my sight; you know, just in case she decides to take a bite, I merely watch him as he inches closer to her. Two is a company, three’s a crowd was apparently nothing this bloke had ever heard of. With a scrutinizing gaze mixed with a little piss-off-will-yah I study him as they, seemingly familiar with each other, exchange a few quick courtesies that I don’t really pick up on. I seem to have a habit of coming short of caring, I think it's called nonchalance.
Sometimes I can’t help, but enjoy mornings like these though. The only drawback is that they come at such an inconvenient time of the day. Like this sober looking bronco over here, staring at me like some guy feeding arsenic to his rich aunt. I nevertheless, out of some needless necessity called manners, flash him a short-lived grin of acknowledgement.
Does the shadow interloper intend to find a place to rest his head, or would he go on his way to be devoured by soft-hearted paladins and weak-kneed cravens?" I cock my head at her with a questioning glance, a smolder stretching ever so slightly at the edge of my chops. Was it just me or did that sound .. suggestive? “Depends on the proposal.”
OOC; So sorry for the looong delay! @[Confutatis] @[Cyrus]
