Emberflame Ridge “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Printable Version +- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com) +-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5) +--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: Emberflame Ridge “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” (/showthread.php?tid=32525) |
“Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Morgan - January 27, 2019 @Cassiopeia Sunset was coming - while it was getting bitter outside, hefts of air trying to savage him with heaves of winter gusts across his titanic body, he pushed through the draft with the mindframe of just tucking himself into a cozy den. He kept that sight in his head, golden gaze slanted across the veering winds of that ridge. He needed either some shelter soon or some food. RE: “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Cassiopeia - February 14, 2019 she likes to think about the first time she's truly gained the upper hand over Vaati. beneath him, fangs on his throat. she did not bite down. she could have. cassiopeia watches the man as she presses all his bulk against the wind, moving with gaze slanted and steps heavy. she wonders if vaati was a fluke. she wants to know if she can do it again, wants a test. she thinks a moment before moving in a wide circle around the male, low and undiscernable amongst the shadows and rocks, until she found herself somewhere before him and made for his general direction, a chuff forcing it's way from her muzzle when he came back into sight. she moved the close the distance between them, windwhipped and faced with all the bitter cold beinf exposed on the ridge offered. RE: “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Morgan - February 14, 2019 Morgan had known where the pack was, and while he let Vetty decide when and where they would start their trek again, he coulda swore she went to go take a nap. But there she was, coming at him, head braiding dark locks through the annoying winds of winter. While squinting through the majority of the slashing frigidness, he wondered what made her get up so soon after a nap. “You alri’ ther, Vetty?” He called through the helix of wintry hate. But as the body neared, he could see this wasn’t his girl as a pair of what he thought were going to be his matching golds turn out to be a pair of emeralds, instead. “Oh, pardon me, miss; thought you was someone else.” RE: “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Cassiopeia - March 06, 2019 this Vetty may make thinks harder, she considers, but so be it. she has no desire to maim the man, really, she does have a sense of justice, after all. he is merely a test of herself and men in general. she does not reply to his apologies, instead calling out through the storm. "I am lost. I'm looking for shelter." the words themeselves were stiff, but her tone was easy and slipped from her tongue like water. she paused, wavering, in front of the man. this was oft where the pieces of delicate beauty inherited from her mother became useful, at least, from experience, and she blinked at the male as ice and snow threatened to blind her now and again. RE: “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Morgan - March 07, 2019
Thinking on the subject, he hadn’t seen Iskra around for some time. Nor had he seen a plenty of the other wolves that had come here. Cry was awful busy runnin his work, but maybe his girl wasnt? @Gwen had to be around here somewhere... but then again, he didn’t want the pregnant woman involving herself in too much. Hell, he was even more protective over the women than the men. Seemed him and @Laroche had to keep an order over things here since Cry was stuck being busy. “I spose it ain’t no harm. Long as you mind yerself here till we get used ta you, you’ll be alright.” Golden irises eyed the dark dame, wondering what had sent the fae to their doorstep out of all doorsteps. Maybe she had just crossed them in her travels. Or maybe somebody had sent her to find out just what they were up to. Though Cry was a busy man, he was mighty observant. Him claiming woodland creatures as friends helped him hear all the secrets and such, like some kinda Wiccan man voodoo priest or something. “Wass yer name, Miss?” RE: “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Cassiopeia - March 08, 2019 the wind pushed through her fur once more, and true discomfort began now that she stood out in the open. her pelt was hardly good protection, spiked against the chill and already stiffened with snow and ice. the storm sought to carve its way through the mountains and the wolves who stood here were pale targets amongst the unyeilding rock. the male spoke now of a group; it was not her intention to shelter with others but she did not refute his words. it would be stupid to back away now, when there were faces to learn and knowledge to gain, however insignificant. she dipped her head, the movement slightly exageratted as she sought to be seen amongst the driving winds. she'd follow him whereever he mat lead, pliable in her motives and actions, yet. it would be more enjoyable than weathering out this storm in solitude, in any case. he asks now for her name, and she does not answer for a moment while the wind screams through the rock. here, perhaps, would be where some would give another title. she does not care for false pretenses and accepts that all her deeds, no matter how dirty, should be attributed to her proper title. "cassiopeia." she doesn't offer much else besides, for surely the wind will steal away much of what she attempts to say. RE: “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Morgan - March 16, 2019
There was too much damn wind howlin' goin' on for him to even imagine having any sorta conversation. Be real funny should she not have heard anything he said. Hell, had she not, he wouldn't even be mad. And after looking around, he'd come to realize that his blockhead ass wasn't even in front of Shadewood- what was he don' tryin' ta call himself recruitin? This lady was free ta do whatever the hell it was she wanted. "C'mon then, Casseh," his baritones tried competing with the air 'round them. The rustler tried to angle himself where the majority of the wind poured, an attempt to shield the lady from the hardcore aspect of the bite. He had enough bulk to make it so, but even the wind could be finicky and just change course just to piss him off. It was then he aimed to lead them to one of the overhanging ridges, where of course there was a decently dug out cavern in the stone. Just barely high enough for ear tips to be tucked in, it was near enough for them both to fit in, but they'd be snug. Rather than make her feel uncomfortable, he gave her the den-like crevice. "Names' Morgan," his breath was chilled just as it left his deep throat. "And Morgan ain't too fond a' weather like this," he gave a light chuckle, trying to be a bit friendlier than his typical sarcastic self is. I DIDN'T REMEMBER THAT THIS WAS CLEARLY NOT IN SHADEWOOD OR EVEN NEAR IT'S BORDERS FORGIVE PLS xDDDDD
RE: “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Cassiopeia - March 29, 2019 if her nerves were stretched when he'd refered to her as cassie, they were stretched further still when he refered to himself in the third person. her original aim in approaching him had been lost and she'd no desire to find it. he was decent in his actions, perhaps, but she'd no desire to be here for long. the wind forestalled any attempt at escape, however, and she supposed it was her own doing that had put her in this mess. she was led to a crevice in the rock, where she curled up tightly near the far end, leaving enough room should he choose to enter. "thanks," she offered, but the wind grew fierce and like some of his own words, it may have been lost in the wind. RE: “Don’t nobody love country music- but them lyrics will hit home.” - Morgan - April 02, 2019
She ain’t said much a anything from his attempts to not be an outright passerby. Made him feel awkward, almost like he shoulda just stuck ta a regular greetin and kept goin. Her business wasn’t his- maybe she rather had been left alone. She wasn’t even a member of tha Keep- the hell was he doin tryin ya rescue damsels in distress? Out of all folk, Mr. Hex was far from a knight in any kinda armor. Watching her curl up, the Outlaw felt satisfyied enough ya let her have the den, knowing should he try even tucking himself in there, she wouldn’t feel any better than he did. Rough winds snatched his fur in even more rambled layers, making him appear just as much of a ruffian as he was. Or well, what he used ta be. Thanks ta Cry, all that had been left behind. “Well, see ya around miss -“ he would have addressed her name, but he just wasn’t feeling all that connection two aquatinted would have- like it would’ve been much more distancing to even speak to her, let alone use her name. So he let it fall away, and catch the heavy blows the sky made. And the ex-outlaw turned, and began to make resume of his trip. Whatever the hell that trip was- so cold out, he might as well just go back home. |