Chasing Dreams Like I'm on Novocain
12-28-2017, 04:20 PM
Perched on the massive beast as he was, Leobold couldn't see into the next territory, but he could certainly see most of this one. He studied the land, mentally mapping out his course to the strange fruits and vegetable growing close by. He'd never seen some of them, and was more than hungry enough to go on a tasting spree.
Words caught his attention, and as he turned to see who was speaking to him, his eyes landed on a wolf the color of dandelions in full bloom. His brow hiked, and though he couldn't glean her scent from the distance between them, the voice told him that she was indeed female. His silver optics traced her gilded form, and the pur was natural inclination for him. "You're more than welcome to see for yourself," he said, British accent heavy as always as his mouth widened into a toothy grin. He was a terrible flirt, and even if the woman turned him down, he would still pelt her with innuendos simply for amusement.
He turned away, tossing over his shoulder, "Mounting this beast is a wonderful pastime, but I wouldn't be opposed to mounting someone else." He wasn't at all a subtle flirt. In fact, he would state what he wanted simply to avoid any misunderstandings that could be perceived. He looked at the dome of the contraption he was perched on and lifted his front paws atop it. There was a filthy clear screen on three sides of it, and while he wasn't certain what it was composed of, it seemed brittle.
He came back down to all fours, and with a surge of strength, leapt onto the top of the beast's head. He turned, facing the sun, and looked at the woman below. With his crimson furs, silver eyes, and the sun beating down upon him, he was certain he looked at heroic as he felt. Yet, as he parted his lips to speak again, no doubt to say something else that could certainly go without existing, he crashed through the top, landing in the seat of the contraption as rust, metal, and dust rained down around him.
Words caught his attention, and as he turned to see who was speaking to him, his eyes landed on a wolf the color of dandelions in full bloom. His brow hiked, and though he couldn't glean her scent from the distance between them, the voice told him that she was indeed female. His silver optics traced her gilded form, and the pur was natural inclination for him. "You're more than welcome to see for yourself," he said, British accent heavy as always as his mouth widened into a toothy grin. He was a terrible flirt, and even if the woman turned him down, he would still pelt her with innuendos simply for amusement.
He turned away, tossing over his shoulder, "Mounting this beast is a wonderful pastime, but I wouldn't be opposed to mounting someone else." He wasn't at all a subtle flirt. In fact, he would state what he wanted simply to avoid any misunderstandings that could be perceived. He looked at the dome of the contraption he was perched on and lifted his front paws atop it. There was a filthy clear screen on three sides of it, and while he wasn't certain what it was composed of, it seemed brittle.
He came back down to all fours, and with a surge of strength, leapt onto the top of the beast's head. He turned, facing the sun, and looked at the woman below. With his crimson furs, silver eyes, and the sun beating down upon him, he was certain he looked at heroic as he felt. Yet, as he parted his lips to speak again, no doubt to say something else that could certainly go without existing, he crashed through the top, landing in the seat of the contraption as rust, metal, and dust rained down around him.