a modern concussion
Kefka
thinking "speech" "others" Finally, a break from the horrific chill that permeated the air. Here, the heady steam of the springs cleared the congestion in his sinuses and let him breathe unhindered for the first time in weeks. The phoenix strode amidst the pools, broad paws sweeping elegantly across the loose soil. Every now and again he would skim the pads of his paw along the surface of a pool, testing the temperature. Eventually, he was sure he would find the perfect one. There were so many to choose from, after all, and it was almost impossible to settle on just one. Like lovers, each one had its own draws. Scalding hot, and the dirt that had been clinging close to his skin throughout his entire adventure through the north would finally loosen up and be scoured from his flesh with a rough scrape against the walls of the pool. A few degrees above lukewarm and he could sink into the depths like a tender embrace, letting time be the one to cleanse him of the harsh weather's hardships. Perhaps he'd aim for somewhere in between the two extremes, and simply apply some careful attention to his grooming for the first time in ages. Yes, that would be spectacular. He circled back around to one of the pools on his left, a few paces back. It wasn't quite scalding, but the heat of it was intense enough that he could recall the divine hellscape beneath the ground to the north. Cerulean gaze dimmed under heavy lids as he released a soft sigh, sinking up to his eyeballs for a moment. He slunk closer to the edge, where the depth was only enough to submerge him up to his mid-bicep while he reclined and began the labour of love that was his grooming. Lifting each paw, sharp ivories gripped fragments of chipped claw and pulled them free to leave intact nails. Carefully laving his tongue over the beds, he cleared the dirt and grime from the delicate skin until they were clean. He flexed his toes as each paw was carefully cleaned, revelling in the lack of toe jam. Then, the slow process of combining the warm water with the ruthless swipes of his tongue and teeth combing through strands of silken fur to free up burrs and clumps of muck. After several dozen minutes of vigorous chewing, licking, and scratching, he was beginning to be able to see the mahogany and alabaster mottling that marked his divine ancestry. Around him, the water was littered with auburn hairs and muck. It would likely settle to the bottom soon enough, as it became waterlogged and weighty. He lifted himself to his paws, stepping free of the water with a sudden downpour of hot water pouring from his silken tresses. Another thorough inspection left him satisfied that he was returned to his former glory, and a sight to behold. He shook his pelage free of water, relishing the sensation of warm, damp fur settling against his skin and fending off the sudden chill that had raked its claws down his spine. A yawn split ebon lips wide, revealing pink tongue and shining fangs. All that self care had him feeling drowsy, like a sun drunk cat. Perhaps some of the rocks around here would be warmed by the geothermal springs, and he could score a blissfully warm nap before he headed south. Oceanic gaze drifted through the steam, searching for promising shapes through the haze. He paused as one of them caught his eye. It was moving. It was wolf shaped. Someone else taking advantage of the rare warmth this winter? Brows furrowed as he squinted to make out any details, though he didn't move otherwise. Best not to make it appear as though he were truly interested in anyone nearby, lest they be mere mortals who started getting ideas of one kind or another. |
Art by Monster |