Too Much To Think
His night-time walks were becoming less and less frequent, but the nights he needed them seemed to go on much longer. It wasn’t until the sky had gone from pitch black to royal purple that he realized how long he had been out, and it wasn’t until he heard the distant roar of waterfalls that he realized how far he had gone from The Maw. He approached the twin waterfalls with his mind still reeling and watched as flows of ice tumbled over the edges of the falls and crashed into the sea. It reminded him of something he really didn’t want to think about, something he had spent all night trying specifically not to think about. He sat on the edge of the canyon the falls had no doubt formed after millions of years of flowing undisturbed and looked down at the squalling birds with contempt as the waddled over the smooth stones with their saber shaped wings outstretched. His half blind eyes narrowed as he watched the idiot things, he was no hunter and the fact that they might evade him only made him angrier. He puffed and sneezed furiously before charging down the canyon walls, all but dropping in the middle of the stinking birds which shrieked with panic and attempted to scramble to the water. Hat mattered to Ruthgar was that they were slow enough on land to be caught and once he had his jaws around the lower back of one, he tore into it mercilessly, tossing mouthfuls of pin-shaped feathers and blood as it squealed and shrieked in pain. “Fook this bard!” He thought rabidly “’N fook Isis! ‘N fook Orsus! FOOK ‘EM AWL!”
He stepped away from the ravaged carcass, his tongue lulling out of his mouth, feathers glued to his cheeks with blood. He would never do anything remotely close to this when any of The Crew were around, and he whole heartedly refused to let the pack that he was coming to love take the brunt of his frustration, but he still found himself needing to vent, somehow. The rest of the penguins were gone but he had only really needed the one. His haunches sank to the earth as he panted, tired from reducing the bird to nothing but scattered chunks of uneaten gore. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the last of his anger thankfully leaving him.
This is him talking This is him thinking |
Stomping, tail swishing irritably, eyes narrowed and glowing with annoyance. This was the typical way for Mara to approach others and really just how she walked around half the time. Shit just really got on her nerves. Everything got on her nerves. The asshole tearing into one of the penguins was especially irritating right now. She couldn't quite put a paw on what was leaving her practically frothing at the mouth in anger, but whatever it was this man was about to bear the brunt of her wrath. Those were her fucking penguins, she wasn't totally done feeding them to sea beasts even after Pyralis had left. She needed those, dammit. Stomping her way over, half-tail swishing and lips twitching the dark woman moved like a tightly coiled spring ready to explode. It was only when she was uncomfortably close by most standards that she stopped and glared at him with the most venomous of expressions, growling, "What the fuckin' hell are you doing?" Walk. "Talk" "You" Think |
He had been so carried away with ripping the bird apart that he hadn’t even sensed the girl approaching him. Of course the damn girl was larger than him, no one here seemed to be smaller than him. The last thing he had wanted was to be approached, much less approached as rudely as the girl had. He looked at her over his shoulder with his only good, shinig, green eye, his brow drawn tight. “Da fook’s it look like?!” He snapped, raising his torn lip to show whatever fangs weren’t already visible, a snarl ripping from his throat, his hackles raising while his back was facing her. His tail bristled for a moment, his hips still reclined against the freezing, blood splattered, stones that lined the alcove.
She wasn’t that much larger than him, maybe a little heavier but the height difference was certainly manageable. He waited for her to make some kind of move, his muscles tightening as he prepared to spring up and fight back. If she had been looking for a fight she had found the perfect chance to have one. He was too far for anyone in The Crew to help him but with the mood he was in chances were anyone that stepped in would have just been in his way. The fact that the girl was in heat had completely flown over his head but if it hadn’t there was little chance it would make much of a difference.
This is him talking |
The more she stared at the asshat ripping up the penguin the more irritable she became. It was an absolute mess, a mess she didn't create, and he'd probably scared the rest away. Her fun would be spoiled, the favorite food of the sea beasts scattered out of reach. "It looks like you're making a damn mess of my birds, and you didn't even have the decency to feed it to a sea monster." Most likely she sounded mad, in more ways than one. She didn't care, not for one second, so focused was she on how he'd made a bloody pile of feathers out of perfectly good bait. She hadn't needed to rip into unsuspecting by-passers when there were monsters to entertain herself with, those blubbery beasts that leapt from the water and slapped the birds silly against it's surface to bash the life out of them. It was amazing, their awesome strength and grace in the sea was so very impressive. And this guy was wasting bait. Just pulling it apart. She was fixing to start something if he wasn't careful. The way he bristled and tensed was just more annoying. This moron hadn't been as fortunate as her when he received his own facial scarring, bearing one blinded eye. She almost wondered about it, but she was too busy marching closer, ever closer, but still staying just out of easy reach, half-tail held high, eyes narrow, fangs flashing white against the darkness of her pelt. She thought about darting in and taking a nice chunk out of him for pissing her off. Watching him a moment longer she purred, "Gunna get off your ass and stop looking like a lump of lard, or what?" clearly trying desperately to push his buttons. It was way more fun to push someone over the edge than to leap at 'em without provoking the irritants a little first. Walk. "Talk" "You" Think |