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+--- Thread: Blackfeather Woods This itch under my fur (/showthread.php?tid=45956)
This itch under my fur - Marisol - January 03, 2021
Border patrol and marking, all of Ivory Rose and those wishing to join.. are welcome
She had found that patrolling came naturally to her, odd considering she was a creature of water and potions or maybe she wasnt anymore. She still felt the call, the pull to a place that could breath of the sea and yet she remained. It was not because she had no choice in the matter, @Rowan would understand if she were to tell him that her heart still had drops of the icy salt water but she did not want to go. No, she found the teachings that he spoke of fascinating. She wanted to follow them, desired the woods to accept her as its own.A sigh escaped her dark lips as she moved along the shelter and allowed the task to take over her mind, her actions. Marking a tree here, rubbing along another there. The usual acts that a border marking quest might instruct.
RE: This itch under my fur - Rowan - January 06, 2021
The winter days slowed him.
Threw him out of order.
He was quiet. Sentimental.
Thinking of how he would have cuddled his mother and siblings if he were with them.
But he had his new family now.
It was only today he realised - with a stab to the stomach - that he hadn't eaten for a while. Hadn't done much for a while.
He moved from the dark clutches of the woods, closer to the snowy drifts that swept in from the edges of the woods, but seldom penetrated the rest of the woods. Save for Phantom Grove where the bare land was blanketed in a thick, white cushion.
Oh. Marisol was marking borders. He smiled weakly, drifting to her. Feeling like a phantom himself.
He dipped his head with a soft greeting rumble, looking to bump his head to her. An apology.
"Are you ok?" Was she struggling too? Unlikely if she was doing more than he was.
Threw him out of order.
He was quiet. Sentimental.
Thinking of how he would have cuddled his mother and siblings if he were with them.
But he had his new family now.
It was only today he realised - with a stab to the stomach - that he hadn't eaten for a while. Hadn't done much for a while.
He moved from the dark clutches of the woods, closer to the snowy drifts that swept in from the edges of the woods, but seldom penetrated the rest of the woods. Save for Phantom Grove where the bare land was blanketed in a thick, white cushion.
Oh. Marisol was marking borders. He smiled weakly, drifting to her. Feeling like a phantom himself.
He dipped his head with a soft greeting rumble, looking to bump his head to her. An apology.
"Are you ok?" Was she struggling too? Unlikely if she was doing more than he was.