The Rhythm of the World
04-05-2013, 09:15 PM
ooc; that was a fabulous post, dear! Hope you don't mind me throwing this sexy guy in here. It was a long walk from Ludicael, far longer than he'd intended or thought it would be. By now his paws would be aching if he'd taken his usual pace, but the Agua was far too smart to do that. No, he'd taken up a rather pointless trot, one that would carry him there in enough time, but wouldn't exactly bring him there promptly. A smirk played on his lips, for he had not the best intentions for this little outing. In all truth, Marvel had pent up energy he needed to get rid of, and while the walk served his need to explore, it did not exactly squelch his desire for intimacy. The dame Brinshana had done a fabulous job at that, but she was nowhere to be found on this particular day, or any day before that. So now he was traipsing toward the battlefield in hopes of encouraging a wolf or two to join the Ludicael ranks, preferably a wolf of the female persuasion. He'd left in the night, clearly hoping to not be missed, but caring too much if he was. Marvel had little regard for anyone's opinion but his own - and perhaps Jupiter's - but he doubted she'd care if he was gone for half a day or so. Surely he would not be needed now that the cats had cleared out of Ludicael and the pack could live as they pleased. He'd healed all wounds that had been inflicted, and would continue to do so until they were gone, but they would not need re-treatment for another day or two - which gave him time off to seek out women. Many, many women. The stench of the battlefield was something he was not accustomed to. Freshly spilled blood did nothing but make his brow quirk, as he adjusted his path so that he would not walk through it. Women generally did not like a blood-spattered male hitting on them. A few did, but they were few and far between. It was unlikely that any he ran into today would be one of those few. As he skirted around the spilled blood, he could not help but notice a figure on the horizon as light began to grace the landscape. Her perfume was clearly feminine, and the man's pace quickened to narrow the gap between them. What is a beautiful thing like you doing in this godforsaken place? Charm dripped off of his tongue like drool, smooth and liquid. He was a natural charmer, as dangerous as a viper but as sweet-looking as a bunny. He was deadly, but hardly ever used his skills for such. Death was all too real, but pleasure was far more appealing. Frame twisted and folded into a sitting position, looking her over with lustful sterling silver eyes. speeeech, |
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