sonder summer 1710

Same damn life.

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Drug trader

age
5 years old
gender
Male
size
Medium
scent
Dirt and Wildflowers
supporting
Voxi
threadlog
encounters
writer



It was a creepy sort of quite out here, the winds slightly hushed as they worked their way through the surrounding plant life. Paws sinking into sticky mud, wriggling his toes rather absently as his electric orange eyes surveyed the terrain. So far not another breathing soul, a strange emptiness caught him all over again in a sick way he'd grown accustomed to. Like a flesh wound that never fully healed, lamenting all the ways it seemed to open back up again. An internal pull, so soft upon his foul heart. Breathing in clean air, and returning it just as tainted. A flicker in the dark, intent on consuming every inch around it.

He slowed down a bit, taking time to navigate the mucky snow best not to slip up so early. Despite it being night, the place was still rather humid causing him to pant as he searched out some water. Where he might go from here he knew not, things best left unsaid to rot in the dirt. As he should also be doing. Up ahead was a small alcove of aqua, a tilted smile upon inky lips as he approached his target. Without bothering to wait he flung his filthy hide into it, a satisfying splash rang out as he merged with it. Now, this was more like it. He pranced about as if he might only be a pup, despite the grey that betrayed him upon his muzzle.

Something was wriggling just under the surface, a fish perhaps. Curiosity came back around to kill him, and without further ado he proceeded to jump through the water, sending it everywhere while creating an awful racket. Snapping at the things as they moved, he drifted off again into his own corner of reality, where he didn't have to think so much. This spell was bound to run thin soon, oblivious to the fact that he might not be so alone after all. Because perhaps this was exactly where he needed to be, doing nothing whatsoever as the world continued to decay around him.

"Speech."

08-10-2021, 12:42 PM
#1

Mercanary

age
5 Years years old
gender
Male
size
Extra Large
scent
Pine and Smoke
supporting
Undecided
threadlog
encounters
writer
BADMAN
Silence.

It engulfs the large wolf as he maneuvers through the foliage between the two cities, ears erect and head low so that he can evade being spotted. Why? Well, there was no need for attention to be placed on the Outlander. Paws sink beneath his weight with every step through the muddied snow while there’s a lull from the crow's song overhead. Creature was quite comfortable with the solitude his profession entailed. After all, one could only be alone for so long before they accepted the desolation as eternity. His daughters had grown up; He was a lone wolf once again.

The male’s muscular figure slips through the trees along the riverbank before splashing, comparable to whelps, reaches his ears. He can’t help but stop midstep, foot raised in a hound-like manner, and turns his nostrils towards the source of sound. Did he truly desire interaction? The company of another after months of being left to his ghosts? Creature hesitates. To encounter another--Let alone a male.--wasn’t exactly something he had planned, but he soon found himself approaching from upwind.

Golden-crimson eyes soon settle upon the ivory pelage of a fellow canid. Creature observes Satchel as he displays pup-like mannerisms with a minor curiosity, ears erecting with every moment observed. It was.. Foolish, in a way. Were they not adults? Did they both not bare grey on their muzzles? He merely sprawls out along a rock, ebony and liver pelt standing against winter’s snow.

Would the other even acknowledge his existence?
08-12-2021, 11:42 AM
#2

Drug trader

age
5 years old
gender
Male
size
Medium
scent
Dirt and Wildflowers
supporting
Voxi
threadlog
encounters
writer





He couldn't help but feel like someone was silently judging him.

As he continued to enjoy his meal of fishy delight, a slow shiver descended down his spine. Rather self conscious, he cast a weary look around only to settle upon the rather handsome mirage of a crimson laced beast. A stiff stare back, curious as to what exactly the man expected to see. He had no shame in bones, and he let out a low rumble as he took a few steps in that direction.

Instead of approach directly, instead he circled slow and steady like the land shark he was. Careful to give the beast his space, but not careful enough to look him over with rather obvious appreciation. Besides the beating of his heart, there was a stillness clinging to the air he was loath to break. "I suppose it's too late to say I'm dreaming." a rasp of a whisper, the obvious hint of admiration. Just subtle enough to leave the ending open for interpretation.

"What could possibly have you so interested? Surely it can't be the fish." he slid slowly back at this last comment, turning towards the shoreline, best not give away too much at once. Wondering if this crimson tide might be hungry, if it was rude not to offer. He moved as softly as possible to the edge, without another glance as he continued to fish. After bringing up a good few morsels, he nodded once to the pile before continuing to crack flesh and blood between his wicked jaws. An overcast sort of day, for an overcast sort of life.

"Speech."

08-12-2021, 12:13 PM
#3

Mercanary

age
5 Years years old
gender
Male
size
Extra Large
scent
Pine and Smoke
supporting
Undecided
threadlog
encounters
writer
BADMAN
No sooner had he settled to observe, the ivory pelaged beast turns its attention to where Creature lay sprawled on the stones. The returned gaze allows him to arch a single brow. Yet, the encircling behavior is enough for the liver and onyx-furred wolf to rise to his towering height, golden-crimson eyes seeming to scrutinize his smaller counterpart. Lips raise with mild disgust for the admiration. When would mundanes learn that he had no interest in the games of romantics and lust? Probably never.

"If a dream is your perception, then so it shall be." He retorts in a deep baritone of disinterest. The mercenary keeps his manner stoic and distanced from the other, not wanting to draw more attention than necessary to their interaction. It's when Satchel inquires about what holds Crete's interest, aside from the fish, that his lips form a sly smirk. Perhaps they could play a small game...

"Well, I reckon that there's much to hold my attention when there's such a.. lovely view." His words are smooth, calculated and paired with laced confidence. "Who might you be, hm?" He inquires, stepping forward to sniff the fish before scrunching his nose with disgust. How long had it even been since the beast had feasted on something other than his own kind? 'Perhaps too long.' Creature thinks to himself and brushes against the other male as he passes along the water's edge.
08-13-2021, 12:23 PM
#4

Drug trader

age
5 years old
gender
Male
size
Medium
scent
Dirt and Wildflowers
supporting
Voxi
threadlog
encounters
writer
Ll


A slight twinge of guilt, and then it was over.

He observed with a strange sort of fickleness, a thrum within himself. The last time he dare dance like this was with a rather lovely face of storm and ruin, but best not to dwell on such things now. Instead he slowly gathered himself upon both shores, molten gaze as piercing as ever. Watching as the man rejected his fish, well not everyone desired such foods. A soft inhale, then he slowly turned away.

Danger was rampant here, in the air, in the very bones of his own existence. A soft shudder as the beast passed him, a cock of his chisled skull as he dare to look. Smooth, and undaunted. "Satchel." keeping just enough distance as to not be foolish. Still, he allowed just enough interest to keep things going. Admiration for that charcoal and maroon pelt. A nice backdrop to everything currently unsatisfied.

"And just who might you be?" a subtle hiss as he trekked slowly back towards the beast, no fear. Because in the end the only thing he had to worry about was himself. Interest peeked, getting as close as he might dare. Only a breath away. His splash of ivory fur, so blatant against the world. A soft inhale, wondering what might be possible from here on out.

For a moment, he almost thought of Him. However he supposed now was not entirely appropriate, and why should he care. So instead he slid down towards the shore and his ruins. A sharp little smile, he wavers just on the edge. "How much do you enjoy the feeling of hurt?" Another slow sense if satisfaction, ankle deep in the mud of nothing at all.







"Speech."

(This post was last modified: 08-19-2021, 06:49 PM by Satchel.)
08-19-2021, 06:48 PM
#5

Mercanary

age
5 Years years old
gender
Male
size
Extra Large
scent
Pine and Smoke
supporting
Undecided
threadlog
encounters
writer
BADMAN

Satchel.

And so the face now had a name. Hellfire eyes remain fixated on the ivories of the other male's pelage, daunted by the difference when put in comparison to his usual type. Perhaps the golden irises were enough to retain Creature's attention.. for now.

"No one worth remembering." Creature states in a blunt baritone as he continues alongside the shore of the river, muzzle scrunching slightly when his paw sinks into the muck after a miscalculated step. Fucking disgusting. He thinks to himself and soon returns his focus to the ivory-coated wolf accompanying him. Well, if one could call it that. Normally the ember and ashen canine would find himself presenting an aura of hostility to deter any interaction, but perhaps a conversation wouldn't be a complete waste of time.

Yet, it's the question that allows those dark ears to rise.

A sadistic smirk manifests upon his handsome features with a purr of pleasantry. "Oh, darling. I do not enjoy the feeling of hurt; I create and relish in it." His accented words are dark and hold a threatening manner, his muscular physique soon gleaming in the sky's light. "Why might you be asking, hm? Are you looking for someone to hurt you?" Creature's tone drops to a whisper and excitement builds within his chest.

A willing victim, perhaps?

manip + code: clae
09-12-2021, 02:52 PM
#6
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