There's something a bit wild in Jack's eye as she sets her sights on the Briar. What a weird place, all filled with stickers and pokers and whatever else. Briars. Right, briars and brambles and whatever else. With seemingly no way around it, looks like she'd have to go through. No worries, no matter, no cares in her mind. Without a second thought, the antihero stepped straight into the briar patch. It was midday and she'd probably be able to find her way back around home before evening... probably. Something like that. A twinkle in her eye and a soft hum in her throat, she managed to find her footing on a path that had absolutely been made for someone much smaller. That was fine. Though she occasionally got caught up or snagged, there was really no going back now. All she could do was plow forward, which was really just Jack's motto in life overall. No cares, plow forward. No cares... plow? Damnit man, get your head out of the gutter. The antihero tossed her head, shaking it, trying to clear it. It wasn't long before she became acutely aware of the tangle that had formed in her tail, and the other at her shoulder. Shit, the prickers were actually starting to hurt. Thankfully, it wasn't too much longer before she came upon a bit of a break in the brambles. With a sigh, she settled on her haunches in the small clearing, making to pick away some of the offending foliage. Jack O’Malley looking half a corpse and half a god

Calico Jack loves to explore, often roaming further away from pack lands than he should and, because he does, the young pup often gets himself in… sticky situations because of it. Today, his small form worms it way through the thorny briar plants, growling in annoyance as they reach up to grab and pull out small tufts of his patchwork colored coat. Small grumbles sound from the thicket as he crawls along the ground, determined to explore this cursed place… even if it kills him. He throws caution to the wind (or more accurately, he just doesn’t think of it) as he goes, cursing up a storm without a thought of who might be listening.

A rather stubborn patch of brambles catches Jack’s coat and very loud, very squeaky, “FUCK” sounds from the sticker laden plants. Growling, he shoves his body forward, trying to unhook the damn thorns from his coat but finds that he in unable to move. Small birds scatter from their vine perches as he growls louder, shoving himself forward with more might until… with an undignified squeak, the patches of fur are ripped loose and, with nothing resisting him now, Cal is sent tumbling head over heels down and out of the briar patch.

Jack blinks his pale blue eyes up at the slightly cloudy sky from his place on his back, scowling at the bright sun as it seems to mock him. The birds that had been unseated from their hiding places twitter and tweet, laughing at the boy that has dared to take on their brambly home. Lifting his front legs skyward, the boy shouts at the birds, the sun, and every thorn that he had come into contact with, “FUCK YOU!” All the fight leaves his body and, with a huff, he gingerly rolls over to his belly, hissing as some of the thorns that have stayed behind poke painfully into his skin.

Once semi-upright, the boy spies another wolf close by and half-heartedly looks them over. With a sigh, he says, “I hate these things. Maybe, when I’m older, I’ll come back and burn them all down.” Snorting at the amusing thought, Jack sits up to scratch at the thorns that remain stuck in his coat. A series of, “Ow. Shit. Crap. FUCK.” Sound with each pass of his hind leg and he thinks about how much this place really sucks.


"Calico Jack"

From the sounds of the shouting and carrying on, it was a child. There was a child stuck somewhere in the briar, but the question was... where? Where exactly was that child? Jack considers for a long moment, and then another long moment. Was she obligated to help the creature? Children, ugh. Boisterous creatures, though this one was vulgar-- much like Jack herself. She pried another chunk of burdock from her coat, grumbling as she did. She wiped the fibers on the grass around her, sighing heavily. The pup seemed to pull himself from the tangle and into the clearing, he was getting closer. Finally coming into view, the antihero assessed him carefully. Very carefully. Built strangely, what did they call them? Puppy uglies? All elbows and knees, bony and puppy pudgy all at once. At the thought of burning the briar to the ground, she couldn't help but let go a brassy chuckle. She couldn't help it. "You're making it worse, scratching like that." She inclined her head, beckoning him closer. "The worse the tangle, the harder they are to get out." Was she offering to help? Maybe. Maybe she was. Never can tell with Jack. Jack O’Malley looking half a corpse and half a god

As Calico Jack attempts to scratch out the brambles that stick painfully in his coat, sounds of frustration and curses fill the air. Why did he choose to explore this stupid place anyway? Oh right, he liked to explore. Making a mental note, Jack decides not to be so hasty in choosing places to go check out again. At least the blond lady had chuckled when he mentioned burning this place down and he offers her a shit-eating grin in between his curses.

Her words have his leg halting mid scratch and he looks to her perplexed, trying to figure out how to get these stupid, ouchy things out of his coat. Thankfully, she beckons him over and the boy of patchwork colors gratefully moves toward her. Relief is evident on his features as he settles near her, saying, “I’ve never had these many thorns in my coat before. They hurt.” Eyes turn to inspect the area around them, enjoying the break in the thick tangle of brambles.

This little patch of grass feels like a safe harbor in a storm and Jack releases a small sigh of relief. After a moment, the pup’s voice breaks the silence as he says, “I’m Calico Jack. What brings you to this cursed place?” Genuine curiosity hangs in his words as turns his questioning eyes toward her, wondering why an adult would travel through this place if they could actively avoid. His reason was simple enough; he is young, cocky, and a little to curious for his own good. Would he admit that? Probably not.


"Calico Jack"