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+--- Thread: Fox's Glade oars to the sea (/showthread.php?tid=37081)
oars to the sea - Cavendish - October 11, 2019
The young girl that he had met before had been a wonderful presence. Cavendish had felt truly blessed in his time in the Teekon Wilds. No matter the vicious winds that seemed to tear across the land, the prince had happened across very kind and warm-hearted young wolves who had given him an opportunity to find comfort in even the most frightening of worlds. The young girl Weejay had warmed his soul before sending him on his way. Though he was unsure of what the future would hold for him in the wilds, Cavendish was certain that his time would not have been wasted.
Stepping into the wooded area, the prince breathed a gentle sigh of relief. It was there that he found a moment of peace from the violent weather. Though there was little sound from the surrounding wildlife, he could not deny the calm that had settled into his limber bones. The deep mahogany of his gaze searched his surroundings with an upbeat curiosity, eager to find his next form of companionship.
RE: oars to the sea - Ibis (Ghost) - October 11, 2019
tagging for reference!
After struggling through the soggy after-effects of Duck Lack overflowing Ibis is eager for something warm to eat, or a cozy place to sleep. She hasn't seen @Okeanos in a day or so and isn't worried exactly, but there is an edge of anxiety to her every move now, brought on by a growing need for warmth and sustenance. Her trail leads towards the glade with the hopes that she'll encounter a friendly face; maybe her brother is there, feasting on foxes. It is more than likely that the foxes have already fled the area, much like everything else, but Ibis chooses to be optimistic in the face of the growing hardship.
She is a little bit distracted though, as thoughts of plump rabbits fill her mind, and from time to time she thinks back to the last thing she had eaten: the vole offered by the curiously misbehaving dark girl. Ibis is in the mood for a hunt—and when she catches sight of something thin, tall, and altogether cervid creeping along the terrain of the glade, she doesn't think twice about it. A nimble shove pushes her in to a canter, and then she ducks among the ferns, stalking after the curious figure. She cannot tell if it is a deer or a wolf—but on closer inspection it is unlike anything she's seen before, which stays her hand.