My Lipgloss is Poppin'
02-28-2015, 02:41 PM
He had forgotten how playful she could be. Her season had brought about the worst in her, and although he loved her he found himself forlorn at times that she might never return to the way he truly liked her. But alas, she was his sister and he would put up with just about anything she dished out. She poked at his stomach and he felt it tense, his paw reaching to bat playfully at her muzzle. “We do not run,” he spoke simply and commandingly. A Maxime never ran. “We are trying to keep you from being impregnated by what I can only assume are thousands of horny dogs running around this land.” His voice was exasperated, as it was quite the challenge to keep men away from his sister at this particular time of year. He had to admit the scent of a bitch in heat was a calling card no man could deny, and so it was tasked of him to do the denying. He wouldn't let just any beast procreate with his sister, children or no children. He eyed her carefully, golden gaze deducing that she was tired of walking and needed a longer respite from their travels. She voiced that the prey were probably lingering in the shadows as she longed to continue doing, and he let out a sigh of defeat. “Très bien, nous allons attendre jusqu'à ce que ma soeur fragile a retrouvé sa force.” He knew there was no sense arguing, and it wouldn't hurt to remain here for just a while longer. He slipped back into the shade, feeling the temperature change as he did so, and relaxed onto the dry earth. His right side basked upon the earth while his paws curled up against his stomach and his tail flickered idly. “Tell me about your ideal home, Roz. What kind of place do you fancy yourself living in?” “SPEAK,” |
Rozenn is allowed in any thread Claude is involved in, end of story.