Foul Play
03-22-2014, 08:19 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-22-2014, 09:01 PM by Sucre I.)
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Fell from a cliff, never broke a bone Dragging a paw through one of the murkier puddles as he listened, Sucre found the beginnings of a smile creeping up on his lips. "I have seen them, yes." It just never occurred to him to copy them, since puddles were so small and he was so big. If he laid down in one all the water would probably get sucked up into his coat and there'd be nothing to lay in, although being a wolfy sponge might benefit him just as well. They shared a good point, why wasn't he in a puddle? He could argue that he didn't want to get dirty, but he was already pretty mangy looking. "I can't," his eyes drifted between the two, "That would be giving into peer pressure." "...at least some of us do." Sucre's eyes widened and he blinked rapidly in feinted shock. Oh, ho, ho, what was this? Cattiness? She even made eyes at him. That meant only one thing: it was time to turn on the charm. Obviously, if she made a point to snark at him, it meant she was flirting. At least that was how it worked in his head and he wad more than happy to oblige. He moved closer to the pair, splashing through the puddles as he did so and even going so far as to drag his paws because the muddy water did feel good. Entirely too confident and comfortable with the situation, Sucre seated himself within speaking distance. He wasn't as wet or muddy as the two faes, but little rivulets of water snaked through his coat and more than a few strands were ornamented with droplets. By now he was all smiles, grinning from ear to ear like a little boy. "As long as we're introducing ourselves: Sucre the magnificent," he said, and dipped his head grandly, an action that might have appeared more noble had he not been smiling like an idiot, "At your service." |
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