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+--- Thread: Whitebark Stream fazbear pizza (/showthread.php?tid=36814)
fazbear pizza - Bee - September 25, 2019
Too tired. Too tired to move, or think, or even see. He squinted out towards the water and concluded the attempt to focus with an exhausted huff of air. Bee hadn’t found much of a den for himself to wait out the day; a rotting log that had been pushed just off the bank of the creek. Damp surroundings with the prickle of sharp pebbles under his chin as he shifted, only slightly, to bring his head onto the cushion of his large paws.
Eventually, he reminded himself, he would have to move. Whether it was to take a piss or answer the nagging churning of his stomach, which at least had quieted down somewhat after snacking on voles for most of the morning. But even that had been a lot of work with very little pay off and the bachelor lumped further at the thought, his vision drooping as if he’d been sapped of all vigor.
With no where to go, and nothing to see he figure he could take his time until he’d be stirred into choosing his next move; whatever that might be. He was no fortune teller, for the moment he was content to suck up the white noise of the stream, a dark cloud above threatening to ruin his morning.
RE: fazbear pizza - Tammak - September 25, 2019
He was starving, too. The only thing Tammak had managed to snare over the past few days was a rabbit (a malnourished one, at that). Table scraps for a growing boy. His normally-gaunt frame was emaciated; his stomach gurgled more often than not, and it was beginning to sound angrier and angrier: like a mother bear, whose cubs had been disturbed.
The cur drifted along the banks of the river, panting slightly. Though autumn had descended upon the Teekon Wilds, he had come from the north, and the change to the overall climate was taking its toll on Tammak. He was half-tempted to toss himself headlong into the river; perhaps would have done so, if he knew the current wouldn't tug his scrawny form under.
Heedless of the company he kept, he trotted closer to the other's log-den, the rotting wood and water smells masking the scent of another wolf.
RE: fazbear pizza - Bee - September 26, 2019
One ear pulled upward with new attention and then the second followed suit a moment after, the intuition of a shift in the terrain drawing his mind back to this dreary reality. The smell wasn’t in his favor and Bee savored a brief frame of seconds to fantasize. Imagining a sickly limping doe colliding right into his path. Still groggy, as he’d been halfway to slumber, his bright eyes focused on the distant silhouette, and for a moment he was startled into thinking maybe he’d pull his dreams into this waking world.
But he was wrong. Bee scrutinized the waif in silence, as he lifted his head slightly from it’s perch on his toes. It was humbling actually and slightly curbed his appetite to see the lean dark figure approach. While he remained apprehensive, he refused to budge from his nestled nook, figuring at the very least his back was not exposed to the stranger.
“What’s eating you?” He drawled suddenly, breaking the chatter of the morning birdsong with the gravel of his voice, having not spoken up in a few weeks; he heard it his head constantly, and yet it sounded foreign to his own ears.
RE: fazbear pizza - Tammak - September 27, 2019
The voice startled him greatly, a small yelp escaping his maw. He immediately bristled, snarling, backing away from the place from which the sound had emerged. His fiery eyes rested on the log, on whatever was within. A hulking shadow. . .
Tammak stood his ground, unwilling to turn and run and leave himself vulnerable. He would assess the threat before taking action. He acted more in fear than in anger; there was an undercurrent of terror, a constant rippling of skin that belied his youth.
A boy, on his own, frightened of nothing and of everything.
RE: fazbear pizza - Bee - September 28, 2019
Bee was also startled. But not in fear. He was surprised at the stranger's reaction. Completely unaware that he did in fact look shady. Like a killer clown stalking the gutters and trying to lure a young child down. But he often failed to see an outside perspective. In his mind, he was the most unassuming man just hanging out and attempting to be civil.
At least the notion that something was off was made clear to him by the conveyed body language, and he shambled his entire body forward to poke his head out into the sunlight, squinting at the shift of light that bore down into this pupils. He remained uncertain, his ears splayed down at each corner of his skull, confusion twisting his face with renewed scruntiny.
He felt like breathing too hard might shatter the other youth into smoke, so silence settled once more, his eyes roaming awkwardly from the stranger to their surroundings and back again.