ardent

Pity Party (Party and Races!)

Pirates, loners, Fireside, Abaven, Habari



You're not feeling so well...

Gilgamesh

"The Bully™"

Raiders Hollow

Master Intellectual (635)

Master Fighter (870)

An icon representing the specialty Gambler Gambler

An icon representing the specialty Marauder Marauder
age
7 Years
gender
Male
gems
462
size
Extra large
build
Balanced
posts
657
player
Bunni

Rapid Poster - SilverWordyBest BudsSocialiteCritical Attack!Legendary
LoserRaiderCritical Fail!Samhain 2022Statue 4 WorshipScarred
Snake EyesWinnerOoh La LaDouble Master1KAll Oozed Out
The Ooze ParticipantThe Ooze - Variation 3By the skin of my teethVengeanceHow many times do I have to teach you a lesson?! Overachiever
Critical Block!
09-27-2021, 06:11 PM
Find #40


A chest rumbling laugh vibrated his chest as he kept his lips shut. Chuckling out loud to his new companion would not do well to embarrass her so soon. As she fought to not spit out the belly-burning booze, Gil took his own swig as she set the flask back down. Her coughing response made him smile with a small shake of his head. Feeling warm and bubbly himself, his skin bristled as she rested her head against him. It took a moment for him to adjust to her touch, but he relaxed after a moment. Never had he had someone touch him in a friendly manner before and the way his heart raced confused him all the more. What in the world was he feeling? It must just be the booze.

"Something deliciously homemade," he whispered to her as he gently touched his nose to her cheek without thought. Initially, he had leaned in so that she could hear him over the cacophony of the growing crowd and had not intended on returning the gestures. When the warmth of her fur spread to his face, Gil quickly turned away, pretending to be interested in the reenactment nearby. As the crying and fake murdering ended, he let out a chuckle as another swig of booze slipped down his throat. This definitely had been a good idea.

The lady named Sparrow stood, announcing that it was time for the games of races and spars to begin. Gil's ears flipped forward as a menagerie of wolves moved forward to offer their participation. His skin itched to oblige in the acceptance of a spar, especially as his yellowed eyes combed the crowd, noticing a few familiar opponents he had sparred with previously. Glancing back to Modesty for a moment, he felt conflicted. Deep down, he wanted to jump up and join the others. How could he turn down a drunken brawl? Yet, his paws stayed glued to the dirt, fur warmed by the fire, as he felt the closeness of Modesty next to him.


gilgamesh is aggressive, don't trust him




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