wishing death upon a fallen star
dime
11-16-2021, 04:46 PM
There was someone there. He hadn't been imagining it. The voices weren't lying this time. As his body curled and his voice came snarling out, a thick glob of ooze came hurtling toward his face. Slapping his nose as if he had just been licked by a bear, it went up into his nostrils. Sputtering loudly, Gil's eyes closed as he thrashed his head around. How dare this stranger spit at him! Another furious growl rumbled deep in his chest as he lowered closer to the ground. Something about this smaller wolf appeared familiar. But he couldn't quite place it yet.
The fog in his brain and the voices in his ears told him it was an enemy. This someone had been tracking him. He was supposed to be the hunter, not the prey. Laying his ears flat on his head, after the goo had oozed from his nostrils, Gil promptly spat his own cord of ooze back at Dime. All around them, ooze piled up everywhere. It was on the plants, his body, the trees, on Dime. Everywhere he looked, all he saw was ooze. Stepping toward the small white wolf with his hackles raised, Gil flashed his ooze-covered teeth as the voices urged him to follow their orders.
You know him, but you don't know him. They whispered to him. Confusion streaked across his face as he faltered in his path of destruction. Pain creased his yellow oozy eyes as he squinted carefully. Another growl ripped from his mouth as he slashed a paw in Dime's direction. Who was this wolf? Did he know him? Fighting through the plague that succumbed to his body, he blinked quickly. His mind was trying to put the pieces together. Paranoia flickered inside of his belly as he stepped back. He didn't want to hurt his one friend. Someone who had hunted and sparred with him.
Was this Dime? The small wolf who had helped him to take down that sheep? Lowering his chin toward his chest, Gil whipped around and found a nearby rock to smash his forehead against. Ooze and blood trickled down his forehead as he stepped back and shook off the dizziness that ensued. A flicker of real memories and recognition passed over his gaze as he looked back to the sick wolf. No, this couldn't be Dime. He wouldn't have been so aggressive toward him. Another growl left his mouth as he spat out more ooze and wiped his face with his paws. Barely able to see, barely able to breathe, his throat gurgled in an attempt to speak.
"Dime..."
TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021
gilgamesh is aggressive, don't trust him
The fog in his brain and the voices in his ears told him it was an enemy. This someone had been tracking him. He was supposed to be the hunter, not the prey. Laying his ears flat on his head, after the goo had oozed from his nostrils, Gil promptly spat his own cord of ooze back at Dime. All around them, ooze piled up everywhere. It was on the plants, his body, the trees, on Dime. Everywhere he looked, all he saw was ooze. Stepping toward the small white wolf with his hackles raised, Gil flashed his ooze-covered teeth as the voices urged him to follow their orders.
You know him, but you don't know him. They whispered to him. Confusion streaked across his face as he faltered in his path of destruction. Pain creased his yellow oozy eyes as he squinted carefully. Another growl ripped from his mouth as he slashed a paw in Dime's direction. Who was this wolf? Did he know him? Fighting through the plague that succumbed to his body, he blinked quickly. His mind was trying to put the pieces together. Paranoia flickered inside of his belly as he stepped back. He didn't want to hurt his one friend. Someone who had hunted and sparred with him.
Was this Dime? The small wolf who had helped him to take down that sheep? Lowering his chin toward his chest, Gil whipped around and found a nearby rock to smash his forehead against. Ooze and blood trickled down his forehead as he stepped back and shook off the dizziness that ensued. A flicker of real memories and recognition passed over his gaze as he looked back to the sick wolf. No, this couldn't be Dime. He wouldn't have been so aggressive toward him. Another growl left his mouth as he spat out more ooze and wiped his face with his paws. Barely able to see, barely able to breathe, his throat gurgled in an attempt to speak.
"Dime..."
gilgamesh is aggressive, don't trust him