Flying High On Wings of Gold
07-17-2014, 07:27 PM
With very little buds left in his bundle - sharing with others did tend to drain one, but Drago would never be stingy with his happiness - the pale man found himself trying to make the last of his weed actually last him. At least until he found a plant that was ready to be harvested. His large frame was carried by sturdy limbs, his pale russet and nearly black tail swished lazily behind him as he trekked over the lands. Drago was quite used to traveling lands of all sorts, and generally only tended to pay special attention to anything that held that familiar earthy, very slightly skunky scent. That same smell clung desperately to his fur, though the brute himself hardly noticed this. He didn't particularly care if his form was hidden or not. In his own head, the shockingly sober wolf would have missed the dark figure 'hiding' beneath a palm tree had it not been for the golden hues that bounced back to his vision, making him halt. His eyes looked at the golden dapples, then took in the rest of the figure. He grinned wide, friendly. "Ciao, young mistress." He bowed his head respectfully to the girl. Act. "Speak. Italian." Think. |