The Dainty Arts
01-05-2014, 01:04 PM
Aros' tail flicked at Impra's words, deducing an air of superiority in them. He had learned long ago that the fae was far from humble, as well as fiercely concerned with proving herself. He rolled his eyes, sighing his agreement, but refusing to give verbal confirmation. Instead he followed his pale beauty forward, breathing deeply, letting the scent of life fill him. His paws held a new buoyancy that they had not felt before, and he could not restrain the small smile that wormed it's way onto his face. He was happy, of course, but at the same time he was not entirely certain what he should be looking for. He had never picked flowers for anyone, for any reason, and such a kind and smiple act was new to him. He dug his claws into the ground, worrying the soil as he looked the field over. A particularly bright, purple flower caught his eye. It was large, and swayed gently in the breeze. It's smell was sweet and strong. Certainly a pup would find interest in this, he concluded, quite proud of himself. He padded forward and snapped at the stem with his front teeth. He held the purple flower in his jaws and looked around, mind dissolving into the task. An orange rose caught his eye next, and then a pink astrid. Before long the stocky, gruff, scarred brute was overflowing with petals and a sweet scent. It occurred to him that he'd smell like such for days to come, and he sighed. What on earth are you doing here, Aros? he asked himself, but it was with a mild amusement instead of derision. It was his voice, instead of his father's for the first time in a long time. It occurred to him to check what Impra was doing, and he looked up to find her. She was not far, though the male had worked his way well into the patch in his abandon, and now that he felt he had completed the task well enough, he began to bound back to her. Certainly it would be a comical picture, and he smiled around his bouquet. "Speech," Thoughts, |