the fever for this fame
Lorikeet
thinking "speech" "others" Every second he spent in the north was another second he wondered if he truly needed all of his toes. The phoenix was not a cold weather wolf, at all. However, he was on a mission of sorts, and he would tough it out. After all, there was divinity in his blood, and he wouldn't be defeated by mere cold weather. The Abraxas male could power through most anything, as long as he had the willpower. Today was serving as a test of that will with each passing moment. Toes crunching through the thick drifts, he fought against the beginnings of a truly horrific blizzard. Wind whipped against his flanks mercilessly, and he wondered bitterly if it was endeavouring to carry him away. He'd been making his way towards a thicket of forest that might provide some shelter, and now that the weather had begun its attempt to make a frigid statue of the deity, he could only hope that the wall of white that surrounded him on all sides hadn't steered him astray. Every breath that escaped his lungs was torn away by the growing squall. Cerulean optics squinted against the onslaught of snow, flinching shut every few moments as the dagger that had become of the flakes battered his features. By the time the shadows of trees had resolved themselves into something concrete, they already towered far over his head. The moment he passed between the trunks of the two nearest him, the wind died down to barely more than an idle breeze. A sigh of relief was undercut by the fierce shiver that wracked his form. His fur was thick, but it lacked the necessary density to buffer against the terrible weather. At least he was nearly done here, and wouldn't have to suffer this much longer. Auds pressed against his skull, he tucked his tail tighter against his abdomen in an attempt to preserve some of the heat that might still be lingering against his skin. Slinking deeper into the trees, he sought a hollow that he could use to rest while he regained the feeling in his extremities. He was almost certain that his whiskers were going to snap off if he moved too quickly. Luckily for him, there was no shortage of gnarled roots that could make an alright spot to bed down for a few hours. It wasn't like there was any chance of him heading anywhere fast, unless he magically transformed into a polar bear. The wraith picked his way as carefully as he could through a system of thick roots towards the base of an impossibly old, massive tree. His toes were so numb he barely felt them touching the ground, and only became aware of a misstep when he knocked them against the wood too hard. He slumped against the trunk of the tree, and hunched his shoulders against the outside world. For now, he would relish the sensation of warm blood coursing through his limbs as they sank into the dense leaf litter gathered in his little corner of paradise. |
| Art by Monster |
Winter was beautiful, it was pristine white rolling across the landscape. It was untouched fields of snow, where the brilliance of her blue coat stood out like a beacon. It was sunlight dancing on half-frozen lakes, and sunrises that bleed color into a white world. It was not slushy melted mud beneath her paws, or bitter wind that chapped her ears and nose and sapped all feeling from her toes. The brutal wind shoved her fur left and right, tossing it out of place, and finding all the weak spots in her fur.
She was quite done with Winter in the North as she made her way through the strange phenomenon that was the mile-high woods. There was nobody here to admire her, or warm her bed. She was alone, cold, and miserable.
Tucking her ears to her skull, and digging in her claws for grip, she shuddered her way through the wind, trying to find someplace warm to bed for the night. The reddish-brown wolf almost blended in with the trees, and she was almost past him before she realised he was a living, warm, creature.
She trotted closer to him, fearless and happy to invade some personal space. She draped herself down beside him without a second thought, sinking close to his warm spot. “Oh, thank goodness! Another body. I couldn’t take another moment alone in that wind.” she tossed her head back dramatically, and looked over at him. Waiting for his admiring gaze.
thinking "speech" "others" The feeling in his toes was returning, and he noticed the distinctive sh-sh-sh of paws on leaf litter. No sooner had he thought to glance up to track their relation to his hollow when a warm body collapsed at his side. "Oh, thank goodness! Another body. I couldn’t take another moment alone in that wind." sultry feminine vocals caressed his ears, and his interest was thoroughly piqued once his attention was firmly locked upon the female that had quite literally fallen into his lap. Cerulean gaze roved over the celestial pelt of the strange woman, finding familiarity in the patterns and odd hues. He had become quite familiar with the starry pelted wolves that often found their way to these lands, and took great comfort in knowing they were, in some way, a constant around here. He hummed softly, voice roughened by the abuse of the elements beyond the forest. "Yes, it's decidedly unbearable." he crooned in agreement, bobbing his head stiffly. "I'm glad you've arrived, I could definitely use a little," dark lips curved into a soft, wry grin. A false approximation of modesty in the form of a soft cough, a brief downcast turning of his brilliant gaze. "body heat, if you'd be willing to share." he lowered himself fully onto the carpet of leaf litter, tail tucked along one side of his haunches and hips turned outwards to face her. At the very least, he would like to make it obvious that he was interested in conversation, paying attention to her. After, the spirits of this land were of great interest. Perhaps getting in their good books could provide him with a chance to continue to mix their strong blood with his own lineage, some day in the future. |
| Art by Monster |
He rolled a little to face her, and she scooted into his chest-area, resting her head on his rump. There was one thing Keetie was not, and that was shy or awkward. She was quite happy to invade the personal space of this stranger, and enjoy a little attention well she was at it.
“Of course love, you share yours, and I share mine. The best way to make the world work.” She teased lightly, curling her tail under his chin. “I’m Keetie”
thinking "speech" "others" Without hesitation, the woman took the space freed up by his adjusted pose to snuggle in closer. Her alabaster toes slipped beneath his belly for warmth, and he let his own find their way into the space around her middle. There it was, the sluggish return of blood to his paws. The soft pressure of her jaw against the skin of his haunches, even buffered by their respective plush coats, was a balm on his sore craving for physicality. To say he was starved for physical affection since his sire's passing was an understatement. “Of course love, you share yours, and I share mine. The best way to make the world work.” her own lilting vocals lifted into a purr that gave his own a run for its money. The soft brush of her tail against his jaw and chin stirred up a contended rumble deep in his chest. "I'm Keetie." she added, and he found himself taking a moment to lose his train of thought in the depths of her two-toned gaze. "Mephistopheles," he responded in kind, rough vocals beginning to recover from the harsh conditions. He flashed the most charming grin he could muster, given the state of his face, whiskers still defrosting and skin numb. It was likely more lackluster than usual, but he hoped she would forgive the lapse in his usual charm. Within a few scant moments, his expression shifted to one of curiosity. Brow quirked in question, auds flickering her way. "tell me, what brings a lovely vision to this frigid wasteland? The current view notwithstanding, of course." his soft vocals shifted towards amusement, a light chuckle escaping him. He always felt plain in comparison to the local spirits, but he never let it show. After all, it wasn't like anyone could compare him to his brother and realize what they were missing. |
| Art by Monster |
The name he gave her was a mouthful and a half, but she just looked up at him and smiled. “Gorgeous.” she complimented him, “But do you mind love if I shorten that right down? Meph, perhaps?” she suggested, lowering her head as she spoke again, to brush her tongue against his coat.
She laughed softly at his bluster, but in a soft, enjoying-it sort of way. “Definitely the sights.” she promised him, twitching a paw under his belly to indicate the man himself. “Exploration, and bad directional skills I think. Brrr! I’m glad I found you.”