florida kilos - lana del rey
As again, the sun sank into the night's embrace, and the moon began its rise into the sky, Aurelia made her way into another unknown, yet unnamed place. So far she had met a few wolves and even fewer of that had made a positive impression on her. Though there was no denying the young preta was a beautiful creature, with a nice symmetrical face and sparkling yellow eyes, she had not had yet any luck at love. She never let anyone close to her, and when she did interact with men it was usually to shamelessly flirt and trick them.
Maybe she was just too picky, maybe there was no one who had really met her standards yet.
Who could blame her?
Aurelia liked her drinks like she liked her men: cool.
And right now she could really use a drink.
So with her fluffled up tail swaying behind her she made her way to the distant sound of running water, until eventually she found a stream that ran across the forest she was in. She approached slowly, a soft hum in her lips as she finally dipped her toes in the cold water and lowered her head to alliviate her thirst.
Without a second thought Aurelia drank and drank, her tongue lapping at the cool water's surface over and over again until finally she seemed to be satisfied. She had not yet felt the phantom weight of another's eyes upon her so she continued to act as if she were alone, because as far as she knew, she was. The wind might have carried her scent to the silent stranger, but it was playing against her since it only brought her the smell of pinecones and other forest floor residues.
Maybe it was for the best that Aurelia had not seen the man, for it was unlikely that if she did she would stick around very long.
He seemed scary-looking, not really cool.
Yellow gaze rose directly to the skies, missing for now the large shadow that looks upon her from the other side, and quicky focusing on the tiny specks of white scattered across the dark of the night's sky. She contemplated in silence for a couple of minutes before breaking the silence with a shy hum that progressed into a melodious riddle to the stars above. "cheer me on while i drink," she began, "dont you think, starry night, that life would be better if everything were pink?" she asked while letting a giggle slip past her lips.
Sadly, Aurelia's joy was short-lived.
As soon as the other's voice rung in the air, the Lockhart froze, she was not expecting an answer (at least not verbal) from the sky but she was least expecting an answer from another like her - only she would soon find that he was not like her. Like a cat that's been scared Aurelia arched her back at the sight of the stranger's single bright orange eye, her fluffed up tail swished behind her nervously as the man continued to speak, a weird accent tainting his words.
Of course his little tone was not missed on her nor was it appreciated, Aurelia was not stupid and she would not be treated as such. Though the only thing that kept this stranger from her was the stream that separated them and usually she would not have risked to answer to another's taunts, maybe mercury was in retrogade so she did not hesitate to show the displeasure he brought her .
She liked her men like she liked her drinks: cool
Mansplaining was anything but cool.
"is it?" she barked back cooly, hoping to make him think twice , her tail lashing left and right, her heart wildly racing inside her ribcage.
"of course you wouldn't understand" she went on, her tone carrying a tinge of pity for the man, "you're just a blind man" she finished, not knowing that her choice of words was more accurate than she might have thought. She meant he was blind to the wonders of the sky - because he was too.
shit, she has no friends but she has an enemy now lol
aurelia throwing shade
Some say ignorance is bliss, but in this case it was what had dammed her.
She had hit the man right where it mattered, right where it hurt andn without even knowing so!
She still stood at the edge of her side of the river, yellow eyes narrowed into slits that glared with resentment the man's single eye. He was staring right back at her, or so she presumed as she watched him react, or not react rather, to the words she had spit at him.
He snorts, reminding Aurelia of a fat wildhog she had once hunted.
ha.
ha ha.
"are youreally that stupid?" she hisses back, with a more dramatic eyeroll he could ever give (shade). She is not used to confrontation, in fact she avoids them but this... this just had to be put back in its place.
rude.
this is post is basically word vomit and i'm sleep deprived so i apologize if it makes no sense, ahaha. xD
If Wardruna’s patience is a dashboard full of big, red, inviting buttons the woman does not seem to harbor any qualms about pressing all of them and the thinner his patience grows, the hotter his rage seethes and boils. Quickly, furiously, like water that’s at the very cusp of the pot about to boil over at any given moment. It occurs to the northerner that she has no idea the raw nerve she has exposed — how could she? — but that does not cool the heat that rises beneath his pelt, that does not soothe the stinging that the lash of her tongue leaves him with. Without much reason or any inclination of understanding from Wardruna, her ignorance only enrages him more. It is not fair …but he has learned the very harsh lesson in life that nothing is ever, at all, fair. “Are you?” He tempers his ire, somehow, expelling it in sharp wit and cruel hiss of the question he briskly returns to her without pause, in the moment it takes for her to finish on a breath and for him to draw one in. He takes a step into the river: a test to see how deep his leg sinks beneath it’s surface: to see if he can feel solid earth beneath the water. Pebbles stir and float around his paw as it touches upon the earth with the contradicting heaviness and weightlessness that water creates.
Wardruna has found solid ground: he knows the depth of the river that separates them and there is little to nothing keeping him on his side now except for her next words, hopefully, he thinks, to be chosen with care ( his body language suggests as such: that feral twitch that warns to tread with caution ) because he feels the familiar itch now. The preliminary exhilaration of a prospect chase and the impending possibility of a potential victory. It hinders on the precarious balance of a knife blade: thin and deadly.
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lol its okkk - i think imma have to have her flee soon if wardruna tries to cross
Adrenaline was pumping through her veins like a drug, giving her a high that made her feel stupidly fearless of the provoked beast that stood at the other side of the river. She kept staring at him, her nose scrunched in something close to contempt as the man came to inspect his edge of the river. "of course blind man for you it'd be hard to see who is and who isn't" she growled.
Though she felt a sudden flush of fear as the thought of him crossing the river to get her passed through her mind she did not budge. Something kept her feet anchored to the spot, a certain defiance against the male's numerous offenses.
But oh if she even suspected he was willing to jump into the cold water and swim his way towards her.....
Then it would be her most primal instict what would take over.
No, not fight.
flight.
She would take off running and disappear as she so easily did when she felt threatened, not without maybe cursing him through her teeth and hoping to never ever see him again.
last post for me & wardruna; i went off what you said about her fleeing if he continues to cross the river. xD feel free to archive with your next post ( or as is )! :-)
Wardruna is done playing the war of words with her. Her words have only driven the nails deeper beneath his skin: and if she did not know that her casual and flippant calling him a blind man did not hold a cutting edge to it she certainly had to suspect by now. Each time she calls him it without any regard to the fact that he may actually have a sight issue ( though to his credit he tries to hide it as best he can ) it merely aggravates him more. It agitates and seethes and tears at him until he’s had enough and desires nothing more than to take her tongue as a trophy. Wolves like her didn’t deserve their tongues, he thinks and it’s that thought that spurs him to cross the icy river towards her. He shudders through his thick winter coat but ultimately grits his teeth. He is northerner. He has faced colder and she needs to know that he is entirely willing to back threats up — outright or subtle — with action. Wardruna intends to give chase to her long enough to ensure that it is unlikely she will not come back before he circles back around to take a deep, long drink of the icy water and make his way back to Easthollow, trying to ignore the chill that sets in through the dampness of his fur.
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