If death is your friend, let me be your lover
06-26-2013, 07:14 PM
The beast?s pink tongue wiped quickly along his lips, pulling over his whiskers before slipping back into his jaws. He continued to stare intently at the maned woman, the unfeeling grin frozen upon his face. The goon shrugged as she spoke of not being ready. Caesar didn?t care. He simply wanted what he wanted, tangled obliviously in selfishness. He arched a brow when she mentioned meeting up again. How would he know when? He was about to question, but kept his mouth sealed when she continued. Following her? He nurtured the new idea in his mind, and found that he rather liked it. It could have meant waiting a long time though? He could always try and speed the process! And in the meantime he?d have company. The grin upon his face flushed with a fresh, genuine joy. ?Caesar will follow,? he crooned contentedly. If his plans didn?t work out, then he would follow and wait until he could have that nice blue mane.
The gremlin took a step to the left, restless. He blinked his large, frosty eyes at the female?s final comment. Grow into bone? For a second, he was confused. He refrained from asking though, and in a moment understood. The decomposition. The stripping and melting of skin from its framework. He loved that. It was such a beautiful transformation. The mortal flesh fell apart to leave behind the more sturdy bone. The stuff that held everything up. The stuff that everyone had inside of them. And it was all the same for everyone too. Why, his bones would be just like Vahva?s, save for smaller. He felt comforted at the thought of it all.
Ebony fur shivered as Caesar was tugged from his train of thought. He tilted his slender and scarred muzzle upwards slightly, the thin and innocent smile still twirled along his lips as he focused back on Vahva. ?A mud bath is very worthwhile,? he chirped, his tail wagging lazily. ?Here, she comes, she comes,? he beckoned her closer and began to dig in the sodden earth. His front bowed down, and forepaws dug frantically to pull away wet ground. The mud was easier to dig in than dry earth, and after a few moments of frantic work he?d carved a decent hole in the ground, about three or four feet long and nearly a foot deep. It was something to be proud of. Water had begun to pool slightly in the bottom. ?Come, she lays,? he beckoned again excitedly, panting.