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i never said i'd stay to the end
The previous luck that she experienced in the threshold had given her a touch of confidence, one that boldly told her that maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. It was a place to learn, whether it be as of the rise of new outcast bands desperate for recruits as she had once been with the Assassins, or the same old thing from the herds, and information was gold.
By leaving in the morning, she’d made good progress against the heat. The Sun had been swallowed by canopies by the time it'd reach its height, and tucked into the belly of the woods, the aloe vera atop her coat and skin had played little of the job it was supposed to.
The threshold had a way of feeling empty, or quite possibly it could have been Helovia as a whole that felt this way. Hobgoblin lunged himself through the trees and down paths that she struggled to follow, wincing and tugging as parts of her tail became entangled in brush and thorns sweep into her legs. Speckles of red dot her champagne hide. She questions how much of a wild person she will look if she does encounter someone, looking ahead with thinning annoyance as Hobgoblin continues to blindly abandon her, leaping and bounding with ease as his body simply phases through objects.
Please wait for me.
It doesn't cross his mind well. Waiting is not something that the Rougarou can achieve for extended periods of time, and as the black holes in place of eyes in his skull are moved to gaze into her direction, disgust fumes. How dare she suspect such a thing from him? He shifts uncomfortably in the foliage that he hovers in. She is moving towards him, at last, but she bares complaints that would better suit him.
"You slow."
It's your fault."
Jaws open and snap back shut within minutes, slamming down teeth into the holes that they've made for themselves between one another. A clack follows with it. It does nothing to change her mind as she pushes past him, never once thinking of passing through him.
He is a material being regardless of what the body he shoves himself into says in defiance to that. She will never see him as a ghost or as any of his other forms, only a beast that cannot make up his mind in what he wanted to be in life.
They get lucky this time. Not every tree will bear fruits, as will the visits to this forest, but this time, there is fruit that can hopefully be picked and returned home with.
Hobgoblin cannot keep his eyes off of the mare, twisting his head to the side to show his questioning state. She too wears a skull for a face, but not one that matches the ones that he has discovered. Intricate designs have been done up within it. They twist, swirl, colour themselves with things he didn't expect possible for such an increasingly common marking.
She looks nothing like Zhu or Volterra, not even Kid, and he goes with the assumption that she has no meaning to him at all. Not that it was expected for anyone outside of Sikeax to hold any sort of definition to him, it's just that Hobgoblin can place her lower on the list of who not to give a fuck about.
Sikeax, on the other hand, doesn't take as much time to study it as he does. She frets momentarily over the size difference she has over the two of them and the lack of horns, but at least now she doesn't have to worry about the Basin making an appearance.
Be polite.
A snarl could have been addressed to her when Hobgoblin latches his hard stare to her, but the lack of muscle over his head has spared her. The little mare is the first one to start, pressed closer up to the stallion that Sikeax can imagine comfortable, watching from the borders of their shade.
Paradox, an odd name fitting an odd mare, who says she's from a band that she has never heard of. Small ears press forward as her attention heightens. Hobgoblin groans in the back of their heads.
"Sikeax, the Sun Physician of the Dragon's Throat." A dip of her crowned skull is given for a short second, Hobgoblin slipping away to find something worth making a meal out of in this wretched place. Only now does she note that they haven't stopped to really eat much. "How are the two of you?"
More small talk with the quiet hopings that he'll have questions, and that Paradox will give out some sort of valuable information regarding the 'Unbound.' It drives her crazy at the thought of having to interrogate the other female, or it could just be Hobgoblin, grumbling about the lack of game that he can find here.
OOC: Welcome to helovia, boleyn! If y'all would just tag me when it's my turn to post that would be absolutely wonderful. <3
If I'm slow on getting a response, send me a PM or get me in cbox and I'll try to get back to you as quickly as I can.
Hobgoblin is in his Wendigo form.
when both us knew how the end always is
you were angels,
so much more than everything
:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed
