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Post by Braveheart ♥ on Nov 6, 2017 18:14:02 GMT
Though the ground was dry and course, the air hung damp with the impending rain on the horizons. Today was an odd day for the desert, the water clinging to the air making the temperature mostly bareable and the trek not too hard of a journey. The mutt had always been curious of what lay in the valley of death, but he'd never had the courage to explore it until today. Today was a great day for a day trip as the water brought life back to the air. Assuming he'd get back to the forest by the next morning, Wicked knew he would be perfectly fine. The terrain here was harsh, the ground flexible and course, sand creeping it's way into the little crevices of his paws, almost making it hard to walk. Though it would be similar to walking on a beach, the difference would have been on a normal day the heat of the sand would stain his paws with burns everywhere the sand went. There wasn't much out here when it came to plants, however tall green cacti stood tall and proud, kings in their own rights to this land. Wicked knew from experience the needles that stood adjacent to their bodies were nothing to play with, though he'd wished he'd had that respect for them prior to when he'd accidentally ended up with cacti needles instead of teeth. He knew the land carried much life within it's treacherous habitat, however he didn't know where they were. He could surely smell a few different interesting things, but his eyes couldn't pick up the sight of even a common bird. Perhaps they were just hiding from the rain, scared of an odd change in weather. He wasn't sure but the mutt had decided early on not to think too much into it, just to see what sort of interesting things he could find on his trek through the desert. He had hopes of meeting a desert dweller, but at this rate he knew that was not going to happen. Hopefully he would run into another curious soul, however, before the sun set and he'd have to turn around to journey back to Pennita and her pride of puppets. Notes This is open! I tagged you, Mocha, so you'd know it was up since you were interested in a thread. I've been dying to play in the desert lol. © BRAVE 2017 |
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Post by mocha on Nov 6, 2017 20:19:32 GMT
Braveheart ♥ | 523 words thanks for tagging me! c: i've been wanting to post in the desert too so i'm excited~
It was a desert after all, but Naomi had expected to see much more than just an endless sea of sand. She’d waited for the opportunity to visit the desert, for the sky to be grey and cloudy and for the air to be filled with moisture. It was the only way she could bare to be there without being worried about having a heat stroke. Now, kicking up sand behind her as she trotted across the landscape, she wondered if it was even worth the wait. There were no interesting desert creatures, no commoners of the land that she suspected would have a different culture. Her only company was the gritty sand that stuck in her toes and claws.
How long she’d been in the desert was a mystery to her, but it felt like a while. Everything looked relatively similar and she figured she’d walked the same area more than once, maybe even twice. In fact, there were a few instances where she’d stumble across an area only to find that her own scent was on it, indicating that she'd already discovered it. There were no scents besides her own to guide her, so she only followed her curiosity and intuition. It seemed to be getting her nowhere until she saw a dark oblong shape in the distance, seemingly unmoving. Finally, a point of interest.
The wolfdog’s pace quickened, sand flinging behind her as she glided over the desert. She kept her eyes locked on the shape, its form taking shape as it came into view. It looked to be a body of water, a pond. Naomi’s gaze only faltered when she caught movement in her peripheral vision, and she came to a halt as her eyes flickered to the figure. This one was moving, canine-like in appearance, a shape she could just barely make out. For a moment, she pondered her next move, wondering if she should greet perhaps the only company she’d have in the barren place or if she should continue towards the pond. The dog was no commoner, that much was clear to see as it came further into view; she was not one to judge, but she saw no reason why such a wolfish, thick-coated dog would call the desert home. Unless it did, of course, then her trek would prove more beneficial than she previously thought.
As the dog neared, she decided against approaching him right away, and instead continued towards the pond. The dog was close enough to spot her, and if he decided he wanted company, then she figured she’d let him initiate their meeting. Secretly, she hoped he would—she was always open to company, and was especially open to it when she hadn’t seen a single soul in the desert in all the time she’d been there. She directed her attention from him to the water, hoping that she would be able to take a dip, but worried about what lie beneath the surface. She was used to the creatures of the forests and meadows that she knew, but this was foreign territory to her and she didn’t know what to expect.
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Post by cerkowah on Nov 10, 2017 19:58:10 GMT
> Silver <
Unsure why he had decided to explore the desert, Silver walked along the sand, his short legs and bulky weight causing his paws to sink deep into the sand with every step. His only blessing in this environment was his short pelt, although his skin still burned in the boiling desert heat. The sand was coarse and uncomfortable under his feet, only serving to further sour his mood. In all honesty, he had traveled to the desert to escape other pestering animals, and so far his search of solitude had been successful.
While most other dogs would be interested in the new world and creatures the desert offered, Silver was only here for peaceful silence. The stench of rain hung heavy in the air, making the blistering heat at least slightly bearable. His large body was not meant for speed, so he ambled slowly along, sniffing at the odd spiky plants he found here and there, but mostly keeping to himself as he walked. Perhaps he could find a large enough tunnel in the sand to rest in and get a break from the heat, but that would most likely require chasing out any previous inhabitants, and he wasn't in the mood for an unnecessary quarrel. Besides, he knew enough about the desert to know there were things out here that, although small, could kill him with a simple bite or sting.
Further ahead of him, he saw a dark, glistening shape in the sand and narrowed his eyes. He had been told many stories of animals that went insane as they walked the vast sand dunes, seeing water that was not there and that they would never reach. However, his curiousity won over his paranoia in this case and he pressed on, scrambling up a large sand dune to gain a better view.
From his perch, Silver could see that it was indeed a body of water. A small collection of plants surrounded it, more than he'd seen in his entire trek so far. From his perch, he suddenly spotted two dark shapes headed towards the pond as well, and he pressed his ears back warily. So much for peace and quiet... Both of the shapes were large, and as they neared him he saw that they were canines of some sort. No one he'd met before, and no one he wanted to meet anytime soon. If it were not for his thirst, Silver would have turned around right then, ignoring the dogs below and searching for some other curious object. But his tongue was patched and dry, and he was barely able to pant anymore. He doubted he'd find other water any time soon, and begrudgingly began picking his way down the sand dune. Hopefully whatever dogs they were would be friendly and leave him alone.
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Post by authgrim on Nov 11, 2017 1:37:07 GMT
 KRINNAG actions speach thoughts The brute found himself wandering, sand beneath his paws, coarse and gritty against his pads. His claws grating ever so softly, upon stones too small to notice, chipped away by a thousand years of paws just like his, and who knew what else. The sand was dry, and felt like salt, threatening to suck him dry should he stay too long. The air though, the air was heavy, pushing down upon the fur within his ears with a pressure that he had long since learned meant that the sky was going to open up and spill its life-giving waters down unto the earth below, and thus sustaining the life that sometimes felt just a little (a lot) parched. He had come here to escape the things that had played with his mind - a shadow, that looked like a shape, a fact that he was so certain of that he had felt a growl rise up within his chest, and he'd felt his lips peel back from teeth beginning to drip with saliva. He'd fled from the sounds of squirrels that sounded of paw steps running upon him, that had gripped him with such a terror that he'd whipped his body around, and found himself snapping savagely at something that had touched him, something that he was so certain had felt like the tip of a nose pushing through his fur to snatch upon flesh, he'd torn into it, having felt so certain that it was a legitimate threat to him, when in reality it had been nothing more than a... A bush. He'd spat out the bitter leaves that had stuck to his teeth like hairs ripped out. He had furrowed his brow in angry confusion. He'd run, he realized, like a damned craven fool from his own mind's voice, hearing one singular word in a ragged voice: Run.
Run.
Run.
Run.
Run.
Run.His mind, some part he knew he had no control over, had twitched, deep within his skull, and appraised the situation as one of danger. He'd felt his heart began to pound, and the trees about him had seemed to loom over him like angry claws reaching up, over, trapping him. He had run, rattled to his core over no perceivable threat. This occurrence had been how the massive wolf had come to be plodding through the desert with his head low, and his eyes clouded as he quietly retreated into his own mind - a mistake, admittedly, but what else was he to do? - to ignore the bleak surroundings, and to forget the terror he found himself embarrassed of from the forest that a wolf rightfully belonged in. In wandering, he'd realized that the desert was comfortably empty. Although, his mind still formed threats around the odd-looking plants that bit back (he had a scab on his nose from where he'd stuck himself, sniffing for a place to piss. He just counted himself lucky he hadn't wandered too close with a leg lifted), whose shadows were stark against the ground, and shaped themselves into what looked like the silhouette of a toothless wolf tilting its head back in a howl. He recalled that he'd asked one, "Old fool, why do you howl so toothlessly? Why don't you just die?" Had he been talking to himself? The wolf found himself at a muddy pond, that smelled overtly of stagnant rainwater. He determined himself alone - for the time at least, he knew solitude never lasted long even in the most inhospitable of places. He padded to the edge of the water and peered down at his reflection. It shimmered with the water, and he locked with his own eyes. He didn't recognize himself - haggard, he hadn't slept in days, paranoid, for everything that moved within his sight threatened danger in a cycle of terror, rage, confusion, and then further rage, a strange desperation that even to him - logically - screamed danger. He did not recognize the scars upon his muzzle, the tattering of his ears. He tilted his head, and his reflection copied. He lifted a lip in a snarl, and it copied. For a long moment, he was utterly confused by this. Who the hell was this ugly water-wolf? He stared for a long time, before he grunted, blowing air from his nostrils, and scattering the surface of the water in a series of ripples. He lifted his head and turned to walk to the only source of shade that he had seen. He watched this for a long time, his body tense, ready to spring. The sun had moved or would have not for the clouds, in the sky before he moved, and let himself collapse beneath it, his bulk sheltered within the pricking plants, and a couple of boulders scoured by sand. He allowed himself some semblance of sleep, which really was only an intense spacing out for several hours. He moved when motion caught his eye, and he focused on it. He made no sound, still largely unaware of if he was seeing something real, or if his mind had finally broken further. It was a dog, he knew. Male, he could see this. A slight hint of recognition sparked in the wolf's mind, and he knew he had seen a bitch like this before. These types of dogs looked more wolf than the soft-bodied things he'd run into before. The brute watched for a while before another caught his attention, this one much closer. He swallowed a growl's noise, but could not keep the entirety of the vibration from touching him, nor could he stop the rising the fur atop his withers. Another, this one much more wolf in appearance, but this was was a bitch. Her sweet scent touched his nose, and while this would have been enticing to most, the wolf only found himself staring, his eyes flicking from the dog to the bitch. He wanted them gone, but he knew this was unlikely since this was the only source of water he'd found or scented in however far he'd walked - ran - from the forest. His body tensed more with each passing moment, although he did not move since he realized somewhere in his muddled mind that they had not scented him - at least not yet - and he attributed this to the pungent odor of the plants that he was hidden beneath. His own sappy-stone musk must not have been enough to overpower the sickly-sweet of the plants. More paw steps, these heavy, throwing sand about as the creature sounded as if it waddled. This one was on the hill that rose behind him, and he could feel sand raining down through the plants' waxy leaves, to creep uncomfortably between his hairs. This drew a deep growl from him when one touched the corner of his eye. His bulk shifted slightly in a shake casting the tiny granules from his skin. Another dog, he deduced. He peered through the leaves, and saw the brown thing, with its broad head and squat face. This one was less wolf than any of them, and while the brute wasn't particularly one to care about bloodlines, or 'purity' or whatever shit others of his kind preached and held onto so dearly, he found this one particularly odd looking. Broad chested, and built like a brick, he knew much like his hulking form would appear despite the slight graying of his muzzle. He still remained in his hiding place though, rather unwilling to come out until he knew the situation precisely. To get into his space, they would have no choice but to face his teeth, and this thought comforted his reeling mind. 1287 words
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Post by Braveheart ♥ on Nov 11, 2017 4:25:46 GMT
Despite the water in the air, Wicked's tongue longed for the touch of tangible water as he walked. He must have underestimated his trek out here in the desert because his throat, his mouth, and unfortunately his nose were almost as dry as the desert surrounding him. If it weren't for the little bit of moisture that clung to his body from the impending rain, Wicked thought he'd dry up and disintegrate into dust right where his feet stood. His blue eyes wandered the landscape until, very suddenly, the mutt's gaze found the sprinklings of grass before him! He ran to it, though he wasn't far from it, joy tearing his veins apart underneath his skin. In the haste of his discovery, Wicked thrust his body into the lush green grass, tearing it up and thrusting his nose downward to touch the grass. The husky was shocked to discover, however, the ground beneath his body was not grass at all! The mutt found a face full of sand, causing his body to violently contract and sneeze, attempting to exorcist the sand that stuck within his nostrils. When he'd caught his bearings, he pushed himself to his feet, looking at the ground beneath his feet only to see the same thing he'd seen the past, oh, 100 miles he'd walked. (Or at least that's what it seemed.) The desert was playing mind games with him. Wicked found his stomach to be freshly upset, his mind reeling at the tricks of the heat. He'd known the desert to play games with the minds of it's visitors, however he'd thought he'd been safe given the circumstances. Obviously he'd been wrong. Now that he was no longer disoriented from the heat, however, Wicked found himself near water. Well, he couldn't see it, but the stench of week old wet animals and stagnant sang a different song in his nostrils. His brows furrowed, the fire of his attitude beginning to match the fire of his pelt. So far, his wonderful retreat from the desert had quickly turned to poison the longer it'd sat on his tongue. His teeth gnashed, greatly wishing they could grip onto the sand and shake it like a dead animal's body, but the mutt knew better. He also knew he'd have no luck nipping into a cactus, so he stuff his anger down his throat, though it was a hard pill to swallow, and sprung forward to run to the water. As his paws climbed up and then, ultimately, down a hill, his eyes finally saw the brown water that sat unguarded, open to the animals of the terrain with little to no fight for a sip. He almost howled with the lust his stomach felt for that water but instead he ran straight for it, rushing into the shallow water as he disturbed the surface beyond repair. This time, fully aware of what was beneath his toes, Wicked's body fell into the shallow water and the relief of watery fingers tickling his body was almost overwhelming. While the water wasn't cold nor did it smell great, Wicked took what he could get and wasted no time in drinking the water given to him as his tired toes soaked up the water selfishly. "It's been too long, old friend," he sighed as he focused on the embrace of the water. His little world of relief was quickly shattered, however, when his ears picked up the noise of another canine. He caught wind of the male first, naturally, as he walked much more clumsily and loud than the female, however he caught a glimpse of the female soon after. What had been a party of 1 for the longest time, was suddenly a party of three. Wicked's curiosity was peaked as his nose tasted the air for answers. The female smelled sweet, so sweet Wicked would've died before he'd let the nasty rhinoceros that came this way leave with her instead of him. Oh how he wanted to drown in her scent, even if it was done in Pennita's dismay. She was not his mate, he would take no orders from a woman who'd no plans for him. Wicked quickly composed himself and stood, shaking his fur of the water that was previously his savior. He couldn't see much of either of the canines, however he could read a few things about them within their scents. Neither one of them were drenched in the smell of the desert, meaning they were not dwellers, and he could even scent a third scent on the wind, but he didn't have a visual on the stranger. Uncertainty's fingers invaded his mind as the thought of this being a possible set up poisoned his thoughts. He couldn't help but thing this could turn into either a 3 on 1, or the 2 stranger males were after the female. He didn't know, but he had to strengthen his presence if he wanted to accomplish anything today. These thoughts, however, left his body tense even as his chest was puffed and his tail was waved high as a flag of confidence. As neither one of them said anything, neither acknowledged each other yet, and the third party still had yet to show himself, Wicked glanced behind him before he finally made the decision to speak up, "Oy, you two know each other?" While there was still some distance between them and Wicked's voice rang a little hoarse from the dryness of the desert, he'd hoped he'd been loud enough to have been heard. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if this didn't go the way he wanted, but the male knew he was going to do what he had to. Notes So obviously I'm gonna close this and no one else can join lol. BUT! Wicked trying to steal this lady and keeping the other two from her should be interesting xD I can't wait. mocha's turn! © BRAVE 2017 |
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Post by mocha on Nov 11, 2017 6:24:14 GMT
In the time that the male was preoccupied with the water, Naomi analyzed him, gazing over his features with curiosity. He had a wolfish appearance like her, though it was clear his lines were more domestic than anything else. He was well-built and even though his thick fur covered his muscles, it was clear that he was toned by the way his coat rippled when he moved. She was never one to judge features upon first meeting, but the male was undeniably attractive. However, she was much less smitten and more like a passerby admiring art. All the same, she could not help but notice his handsome features; she only hoped his personality matched his appearance.
The closer she got to the pond, the more desperate she felt for water. Her mouth was dry, aching for hydration, and she herself felt like she could use a swim. It was then and only then that she wished she didn’t have company, that she could be free to slip into the water without a thought, without having to worry about turning her back on a stranger. Still, the wish was short-lived, and she was thankful for the companionship. The male didn’t seem unfriendly, after all.
Somewhere behind her she could hear the crunch of paws on sand, a sound that made her ears swivel and her nose twitch. Before she even turned to look at the new arrival, the scent told her that it was another male approaching. She looked over her shoulder and was unsurprised to see that the dog trudging through the sand was indeed a heavyset brute. Her light blue gaze lingered on him for a moment as she noticed how different he looked from both herself and the other male.
The voice of the other made her turn her head, her ears perked with interest. Finally, someone started the conversation. Naomi shook her head left-to-right before replying, “No, I’m afraid not.” She took a moment to ponder the situation. “By the sound of your question, I’m guessing you don’t know him either. Looks like we’re all strangers.” Her voice was gentle and neutral in manner until the last sentence, at which it shifted to a lilting tone. She hoped that her light-hearted demeanor would keep the meeting at ease, not that she was particularly worried that their interactions would take a hostile turn.
Well, she wanted company and she got it. There was now not one canine, but two, their strong musky smells merging together in a cloud of testosterone. Her ears involuntarily swiveled backwards, already feeling slightly outnumbered. She didn’t mind the company, no, but her intuition told her that this meeting would be nothing short of interesting. Some excitement was better than none, after all. Then, just as she was getting used to the idea of being in the company of two testosterone-ridden males, the breeze blew and with it was yet another scent. Another male. The sigh that came out of her mouth was nearly inaudible, thought it was still clear that she was taken aback. She had nothing against males, but it was difficult to not feel outnumbered in her situation. Usually, she would rely on her intuition to guide her through interactions with others, but she had no idea how her day would go now.
Still, she would not let the predicament discourage her. She stepped confidently towards the body of water, her bold posture meant to mask the nervousness that boiled within her. As she approached the male by the water, she introduced herself, “I’m Naomi. There, now two out of four of us aren’t strangers. That’s a start at least." Her silvery voice carried the same laid-back tone, but her tense posture betrayed her unspoken worries. The only thing she could do now was wait: wait for the approaching male to reach the pond and wait for the final male to reveal himself.
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Post by cerkowah on Nov 11, 2017 16:22:09 GMT
>Silver< Silver watched in well hidden dismay as he spotted both of the shapes headed for the water as well. On the breeze, he caught their scent. The one at the water was a male, and the more wolf-looking one was definitely female. He shook his head slightly, resisting the urge to curl his lip. Great, he'd get to deal with a testosterone fueled male probably interested in nothing but mating with the unfortunate female. His large paws sinking into the hot sand, Silver nearly sighed with relief as they touched the much more compact, and cooler, mud surrounding the pond. Ignoring both of the dogs, at least he was pretty sure they were dogs, he padded almost directly past the male, leaning down to lap up some water. His dehydration had caused thick drool to drip from his jowls, but he could not care less. Lapping up the water messily, he delicately walked a little ways into the cool water, giving his feet a break on the much softer sand. He shook his fur, drops of saliva flinging from his face as he mouth flapped about. The males voice made him lift his head slightly, but he did not respond. He briefly scented another males scent on the wind, and his suspicion was confirmed by the females voice. " Name's Silver," he muttered gruffly, not one to ignore such a seemingly kind hearted female. The male however, he eyed suspiciously, slightly disgusting by the almost hungry way he was looking at Naomi. " And while it's good and all that we're no longer strangers, I'd keep my eye on that one," he pointed his nose at the male, his brown eyes glittering with distaste. It was dogs like that that really rubbed him the wrong way, mating for the pleasure of it and then abandoning the females to take care of the pups. It was what Silver's own father had done, and he would not tolerate this male doing the same thing to Naomi. Dipping his head down to lap up more water, Silver finally succumbed to his exhaustion. Not sharing the prissy attitude of these wolf-like dogs, he flopped into the shallow water, covering his belly and splashing his sides with mud as he lay there, astute gaze scanning the surrounding foliage for any sign of that other male while he kept his ears trained back to listen in on the others conversation. If he had to, he would have no problem sending that fleabag running with his tail between his legs. The male was big, but he lacked the sheer muscle power and bulk that Silver possessed. He wouldn't be the first dog to think they could beat me... he though darkly, his paws flexing in the mud at the thought of his uncle. It had been almost two years ago now, but he was still haunted by nightmares of the puppy's dead eyes and the gaping hole where it's neck should have been. Braveheart ♥ mocha authgrim |
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Post by authgrim on Nov 11, 2017 23:15:50 GMT
KRINNAG actions speach thoughts The wolf watched the first dog throw himself into the stagnant water, sending shinning drops spraying into the air. The light played on them as if they were a thousand shining crystals, and for the briefest of moments, he found himself transfixed by this sight. At least until all the drops had showered down into the surface of the water, joining the disturbed murk as the dog floundered about like an infantile creature within the womb. He spoke to the water, and the wolf tilted his head. Had he spoken to the water or his reflection? It must have been the first, the wolf deduced since the other disturbed the water too much to see his own reflection. The first seemed largely unaware of his presence, and this notion disturbed the wolf more than he cared to admit. How could one not know of his environment? Even despite the masking of the plants that sheltered him, had the positions been switched, he would have obsessed about the darkness beneath them until he realized that, yes indeed, there was another beneath them. He would have scented the dog far quicker. Even the bitch seemed largely unaware of him. Fools, the wolf thought to himself. The dog spoke though, "oy, you two know each other?" The brute was aware that the other had finally scented him, when a brief flicker of uncertainty had danced within his eyes - although, this easily could have been imagined. It would not have been the first time that he'd imposed a notion like that onto another, and while he didn't particularly care, he was curious, much to his own distaste. He should just remain hidden, he kept repeating this to himself, since there was no need for him to interact with others. This mantra repeated on a loop, as he focused on the scene before him, watching in the most perverse manner with a voyeuristic eye. The dog was confident, but he was tense, and the wolf caught this with a certainty that even his rational mind could not deny as it normally could when paired with the paranoid. The female spoke now after she had surveyed the situation. The wolf's ears twitched at her voice, as she stated "no, I'm afraid not. By the sound of your question, I'm guessing you don't know him either. Looks like we're all strangers." Strangers, indeed. He agreed inwardly, still taking in the situation. He was larger by a good bit, and while his training had prepared him for such, the wolf was uncertain that he could take on all three should the situation turn to that. He somehow thought that it would not though, and aimed to soothe himself with this thought. He spotted the bitch's discomfort shortly after it touched her features, and he knew his presence would only heighten that. He inferred that it was due to the outnumbered position of her sex. Some part of his brain reeled at this notion, deciding on a whim that he would be at her aid should she need it. That was his purpose, after all, to be a set of teeth, and a wall of muscle if one should need. The fairer sex determined much less of a 'they deserve my subservience' mentality, and in some way, he had always been told to protect those that could not protect themselves. His ears pinned back, and he bared his teeth to himself. The angriest part of himself simply said leave her to her fate, while the more respectable part fought back with a it is what training dictates. He felt slightly torn, but quickly pushed this spiral aside - he'd lose himself for hours in the thought process if he didn't. The wolf felt amusement at both of their feigned confidence in the situation and angled his ears forward as she spoke again. "I'm Naomi. There, now two out of four of us aren't strangers. That's a start at least." A quiet breath pushed the dust before him, as he thought so she isn't quite so oblivious.The stout dog waddled into his full vision now and went straight to the water. He tainted the water with his spit, as the wolf watched, and felt his lip curl in slight disgust. He decided that he would hate to drool like that and that it must be an unfortunate occurrence with his pressed muzzle, and thick lips. He knew the two-leggeds once bred dogs to look like this or so was the tale, and he wondered why they would do such a thing. What was the appeal? A nose so short couldn't be good for smelling or eating. Although, such a wide head must have been good for something, and from the size of his jaw, the wolf determined that it must have been biting. Still, the wolf preferred his own narrow muzzle to the idea of something so stout - it must have been hard to breathe, from the way he was heaving. The frog-looking dog shook his head and sent a pray of spittle everywhere, one drop flying so far as to land upon the wolf's paw, despite the foliage that it also had showered catching most. His chest rumbled quietly in annoyance, and his lips turned in anger and disgust. The stout thing spoke, "name's Silver." There was a moment before he heard "And while it's good an all that we're no longer strangers, I'd keep my eye on that one." The wolf tilted his head to this, his eyes flicking to the other male. Already drama, he determined. A splash caused his eyes to flick to the smaller of the two dogs, and he saw the one flopped down into the water, coating himself with the rank mud. For a moment, their eyes met. The wolf was unsure as to if the other was even aware of this occurrence, but it prompted him to move. The wolf rolled himself, tucking his legs beneath him before he pushed himself up. He crawled from the foliage, and stood to his full height, but still kept his head low as he watched the other three with blatant distrust, his tail held in such a way to subtly state that while he was not imposing himself as the dominant one, that he would not allow himself to be pushed about. He shook himself, scattering sand and dust about before he turned his eyes to the one laying in the mud. "For a shower of sand and spit, thank you," he growled. 1091 words
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Post by Braveheart ♥ on Nov 12, 2017 20:59:57 GMT
The bitter taste of disgust and distrust danced across Wicked's tongue with the addition of this new male. While the husky knew he was no match to pick a fight with such an ugly mug, he still couldn't help the itch that tingled his lips, wishing he could sink his teeth into him. He also knew, by clear body language and dialog, this male didn't like himself either, which only fueled the fire that quietly burned through his veins and made the male's body physically hot and uncomfortable. The pretty female had introduced herself as Naomi, a fitting name for such a beautiful specimen and, if it weren't for the brick headed rhinoceros killing Wick's good mood, he would have let her know this. Instead, however, the husky bit his tongue as his gaze turned back to Naomi, attempting to diminish the flames underneath his pelt. "Call me Wicked, Naomi. And definitely don't consider yourself a stranger," he spoke, a devilish twinkle lighting up his gaze toward the female. She certainly was pretty, not too unlike himself. Naomi's body was well built and you could tell she was a little female of strength and courage for holding her ground amidst three stranger males. He almost felt a twinge of lust to extinguish that little flame that burned within her, but Wicked hadn't been that kind of mutt in a long time and he rejected that thought rather than embracing it. Wicked's ears shifted as the male introduced himself as Silver. Though he was mostly trying to ignore this toxic presence, the tension and distrust that stood between them made that hard to do so. Wicked felt nothing but disinterest toward this nasty fellow. He couldn't even keep the drool from escaping his lips, how could the canine truly have any respect for himself or expect others to respect him. He was a disgusting, fat rat the had to know his place in the world. And his place was underneath the deserving feet of Wicked. He'd put him in his place, he knew. Sure the male was fat and toned, but it didn't always require brute strength to win a fight. Wicked knew if he fought smarter and harder, he'd conquer the eye sore quicker than a pup would submit their mother. Unwilling to fight in front of the female, however, Wicked brushed off the slobber hound's attitude just as he'd warned Naomi of Wicked's "unsavory ways". Wicked snorted, his lips raising closer to his nose to express the mutt displeasure with the comment. He didn't growl, however the scowl that lingered on his face was surely enough to shut the male up, right? Wicked relaxed himself, shrugging at the rat as he spoke, At least she can enjoy herself while looking at me. Surely no woman could enjoy the sight of a flea infested, loose jowled, rhinoceros like yourself." Wicked turned his head from Silver toward the horizon just as he inquired to the tank, Say, Silver, how many females have whispered sweet nothings to you until they saw your face in the light and ran for the hills?"Wicked spat at the water as he finally got out of it, inching further from the rat just as the third male revealed himself to the group, thanking Silver for the shower of sand and slobber he'd sent his way. The male revealed himself to be the largest of the group, clearly being a full blooded and handsome wolf. If Wicked were to compete with anyone today, it would surely be this one, though he seemed to be the grumpiest and most uninterested one of the group. "And you are..?" Wicked spoke with an inquiring tone to the wolf, his focus momentarily on something other than the flea that kept biting his neck. If he were going to compete with someone, he at least wanted to know who his competition was before they got the better hand on him and took the gold and the glory. Notes - © BRAVE 2017 speech |
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Post by mocha on Nov 13, 2017 3:14:41 GMT
Wicked. She caught the mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her, and she soon realized that his name was fitting. Naomi could feel her face grow warm at the flattery, the flicker of a flame daring to ignite beneath her skin. As flattered as she was, she was no fool. She knew what he was most likely after, and if he was keen on getting it, he would soon find himself disappointed. Naomi was no female to engage in casual intercourse, and the thought of it alone made her feel uncomfortable. She could not understand the concept of being intimate with another despite having no prior connection or emotional basis with them. While the snake’s charming attitude did flatter her, she felt a bit offended at the thought that he was probably considering having his way with her. Of course, she didn’t know for certain if that was what he wanted, as she was only speculating, so she held her tongue for the time being. As for her reaction to his comment, she simply smiled politely and turned her attention rather nonchalantly to the other, bullish male; Wicked would not have the satisfaction of thinking that she was even willing to lead him on.
The other male was a bit crude, maybe even grumpy, but he seemed to be a to-the-point type of man. Sure, he was a bit rough around the edges, but Naomi had met canines like that before and most of the time they were never as bad as they seemed. He didn’t seem bad at all, at least not until he started haphazardly flailing his jowls around. The sprinkler of spit coming from the male caused her to take a few steps back to widen the distance between herself and the radius of his saliva. She frowned at the sight, taken aback by his carelessness. She was planning on taking a swim today, but not in this brute’s drool. There were many unclean things that she did not mind—mud, dust, dirt—but another canine’s spit was not one of them. Despite her initial disgust, she attempted to compose herself when he introduced himself as Silver. Part of her felt bad for acting so repulsed by the stout dog’s actions, as she was sure the drooling was something he would control if he could. “Uh…” she began, though her voice trailed off as she shoved the last image out of her mind of the spit that was flying only moments before. “Nice to meet you.” Then, she shifted her gaze from Silver to Wicked. “Nice to meet both of you.”
Silver spoke a warning to Naomi, and she once again felt herself growing tense. Instead of looking at Wicked when Silver gestured towards him, she looked down at her paws, down at the sand beneath her feet. The air was so thick that it felt like she wouldn’t be able to breathe correctly should tensions continue to rise, and as much as she tried to keep herself composed, it was now obvious that she was uncomfortable. Though she kept her gaze on her paws, she listened intently to the conversation, an ear swiveling in Wicked’s direction as he spoke. The insults that came spewing from his mouth were harsh, hostile, and not at all the kind of reply she wanted to hear from him. Already, the meeting was taking a dire turn.
Wicked's confidence in himself left a sour test in her mouth and made her want to roll her eyes. It really was too bad his personality didn’t match his looks, at least not from what she’d seen of him so far. Even still, she knew better than to join someone else’s argument, so she commented on the only thing she had the authority to comment on: herself. “You’re wasting your breath.” Her voice came out softer than she meant; she meant for it to be clearly heard, strong, empowering, but it wasn’t. She wasn’t even sure if they could hear what she was saying, especially with her attention still directed at the ground, so she lifted her head to look at Wicked to make sure he heard her next bit of words. Speaking slowly and clearly this time, she explained, “I’m not interested in you. Or anyone else here for that matter.” Her tone was calm but wavering. She refrained from speaking matter-of-factly, opting to speak in a more sincere manner.
Then, as if two brutes weren’t enough for her to deal with, the third one finally revealed himself. He was a sizable male, full wolf by the looks of it. Naomi felt both relieved and defeated at the sight of him. She was relieved that there was another canine to perhaps relieve the tension, but she felt defeated at the sight of yet another male. Since Wicked already asked the stranger to reveal his identity, she refrained from saying anything else and decided to wait and see just how this male was going to act. Three males. How would she ever make it through the day?
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