Why am i always drenched
Even though he wouldn’t admit it, Gil enjoyed water. Swimming, bathing, splashing, playing, he really did enjoy it. Enjoy in a sense that he didn’t feel general dislike at the thought and didn’t openly avoid it. Of course, it was better living in the south toward Auster. Down here, it rarely got to freezing and they didn’t see snow most winters. That was how he liked it. Warm, balmy, muggy, almost hard to breathe. If there was a day where his skin wasn’t feeling wet with sweat, he would question why he was doing it. Sitting upon the shore of Boreas and staring out at the Cypress trees, he took another moment longer to pond his thoughts and stare at the water.
gilgamesh is aggressive, don't trust him
They'd chosen to stay close the meadowed pastures. Or, maybe just the entire area in general. There seemed to be much more to explore in this particular area and with so much time on their paws. It didn't seem right to just rush through. They could not fly like the birds above. Having not been provided with the wings to such a thing. Only the limbs which carried them along. Anemone being Omaira's main guide. At times, she felt bad for the vulpine. Wondering on a daily she ever grow tired of being another set of eyes. It wasn't as if she could not see. The world full of various colors. Everything just seemed to be one big blur.
As Anemone trotted ahead. A soft tune leaving her lips, Oma fell just slightly behind. Bright blood pads feeling the moment earth became rough. Sinking with ease into the weirdly shaded terrian. A color she had yet to come across. What is this? For a moment, she stopped to feel the texture. Toes spreading. Further pressing into the ground with interest. So lost in what it could be, her attention fell onto the distant abyss forever walking without pause. "Anemone, what am I standing on?" The fox stopped to turn around. Her head finding Omaira looking quite puzzled at the ground. "It's sand. This area seems to be covered in nothing but water. Can you see it?" Her mouth snapped shut with embarrassment. She did not mean to say such things. And yet, Omaira said nothing as she glanced ahead. Moving from where she once stood to take a closer look at the vast blue painted along the tall brown structures. Trees. These are trees.
Reflective. Thoughtful. Hesitant. Was he doing the right thing? Would life really be better now that he was in charge instead of Sparrow? Perhaps he would never know the question. Rather, he would live day by day to the fullest, to his utmost extent until he perished in a blaze of glory. Yes, that's how he wanted to go out. He wanted the whole world to know his name and by gods, he would make it happen.
Relishing in the imaginary cheer and hiss of both his followers and opponents, Gilgamesh almost didn't hear the rustle behind him. It was soft, careful, almost silent. Was it just a mouse or someone else? His muscles tense as an ear turns backward. Listening, watching, unmoving. He waits a few moments until he hears whispers. Both ears are turned backward now as he listens to their hushed voices.
Curious. It is one trait within him that isn't inherently vile. Slowly he stands, shaking his fur, before turning to spot the potential intruder. Not that this was his land, but they were encroaching on his time. Face passive, nearly void of emotion, as he takes a few more steps. Closer, through the brush, before he sees a fox and a red-coated female. Interesting, yes. He doesn't hesitate as he closes the distance between them.
"Lost?" The Raid King questions. One word. So many answers. Would she pick the right one?
"speech"
gilgamesh is aggressive, don't trust him
The area felt tranquil in so many ways. Birds fluttering somewhere nearby. Their song gentle and melodic. Whilst something else shifted the energy around her. Someone had approached. Snapping her attention back to the blurred canvas in front of her. Oma couldn't quite make out what these colors were. There were so many that for a second she felt overwhelmed and curious. Not wanting to just invade another's personal space. She couldn't stop the question which left her lips. Completely ignoring his own. "What color are you?" Anemone, not that far behind, nearly fell over in embarrassment. Her small paws quickening to close the distance and see as to what was going to transpire. "Don't be rude and this is coming from me!"
Omaira chuckled. Looking around until she finally found the placement of where Anemone stood. Just to the side of her and not that far off. Nothing but a mass of darkness. "I was only asking. This is the first that I could not see the colors, Ane." She glanced back to the new stranger. "We are not lost. Only exploring."
His expression remains unchanging as she ignores his question. Perhaps the white of her eyes is true in that she is blind. Yet, if she were blind... how would she know colors? Gilgamesh tilts his head slightly as the fox rushes over and chastises her. Only a brow lifts in a minor question. Rude? Hm, he supposed that some might find it in poor taste to question the color of one's coat. Yet, unlike his wife, Gilgamesh could care less about the colors of his coat. It was not the appearance of one's body that proved their worth.
Patiently he waited for their words to cease. A slight nod of his head in understanding with an added grunt as an approved note that he understood. Glancing around the watery plains himself, he took a moment before replying. "The colors I am are grey, black, white, brown, with blue crystals and yellow eyes," he adds, his words simple and straightforward. For now, he would keep his fangs hidden, tucked away in the upper part of his mouth. No need to scare the poor girl and her companion just yet.
"How does your sight work for you?" Gilgamesh questions as he shifts his weight to a more comfortable stance. His paws squeal in the watery mud beneath him as he waits for a response. If she were allowed to ask forward questions, then so should he.
"speech"
gilgamesh is aggressive, don't trust him
Anemone nodded. When they'd first met, she too had thought Omaira to be quite odd for a wolf with no sight. How could see colors and not know of what she truly looked like? For awhile it became hard for the fox to get used to. Eventually though, there was nothing anyone could say to change her mind. Oma was indeed a unqiue canine.
Feeling as if she spoke enough, her lips remained sealed. One thing about Omaira, if one gave her the opportunity to talk, she'd do so without hesitation.
If anything, Gil was a listener. His lips remain still as his ears turned toward her voice. She rambles on and he soaks in what she has to say. So a colorful fog, hm? An interesting sort of blindness. A thoughtful noise rumbles in throat as he considers how to move forward. There is a hesitant flicker of his gaze toward the fox, Anemone. Also an interesting name for a fox. He had left his own companions behind to keep an eye on the isle while he was away for the day. Where would this interaction go now? Knowing that she is blind, he cares little for messing with her. But… she smells not of any pack or one that has lingered in Boreas for long. Was she new to the continent like he had been once upon a time ago? He shifts again as the mud covers his toes. This was definitely not the sort of place he expected to meet anyone else. Perhaps he would stay pleasant for the time being. “What brings one such as you out to this area?” Gil asks, implying that her blindness would inhibit her ability to navigate such precarious habitats. ”Speech” ’Thought’ |
gilgamesh is aggressive, don't trust him