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+--- Thread: Kintla Flatlands sunday matinée (/showthread.php?tid=9459)
sunday matinée - Ovaltine - May 24, 2015
Location: Tormented Tarns.
Having stopped briefly at Bearclaw Valley, Ovaltine now began to skirt a behemoth of a mountain. It was a big one, but he was curious to see what was on the other side of it. Not because he thought there was something grand and magical there, but because it was his way. He gathered knowledge, experience, and life lessons. No, they weren't always particularly useful. Yes, he could have done a lot of that while pledging himself to a pack. Ovaltine would continue to do things his own way, regardless of what could have or should have been.
Ovaltine paused, lowered his head, and began to drink from one of the small lakes that dotted this particular area. Once he'd taken his fill, he began to walk out into the cool water, thankful that such things existed on hot summer days like this. He went out just far enough so that he could lay down with his head above the water, soaking in the lake.
RE: sunday matinée - Tatum - June 25, 2015
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The day was as hot as fucking balls out, and Tatum, though she'd been unsurprisingly lethargic all day, was panting as if she'd ten miles in three hours. It felt like she had, and even though she had been careful to keep herself hydrated her mouth still felt as dry as sandpaper. Her ears slicked back to her skull as she followed after a hare, as to whom she'd given up hunting about half an hour ago, though by now it would have been easy prey would she have been in any sort of mood to kill it. She wasn't. The scraps from carcasses left by other predators — or wolves — was enough to sate her somewhat absent appetite. She ate because she had too but she wasn't overly hungry — no doubt a side effect of the the pressing heat. If there was a way to strip off her summer fur and run around 'naked' (via the human standard) she would have done it in a heart beat. As it was the dark ocher of her fur seemed to siphon the heat from the sun's rays and she was stuck dealing with it, albeit she did not do it with any sort of grace. She cussed, and stormed about, and told the weather, and then the hare, and then the weather again to fuck itself.
It didn't help that the heat of the night hadn't allowed her to get much of a good night's sleep, either.
Svelte form trudged on, defiant to her last breath (or was it pant?), until she couldn't take it anymore and threw herself in the nearest lake; she'd passed several on the way but hadn't particularly been looking to soak herself. When her head breached the water's surface she let out a relieved gasp as the cool water smoothed over and through her fur. “That's so much fucking better.” She breathed in a hefty sigh of relief, not aware of the other wolf (that she might have very well disturbed).
I hope you don't mind swearing, lol.
RE: sunday matinée - Ovaltine - June 30, 2015
I welcome it! ;)
Somebody he did not know (well, Ovaltine knew few, so that was not a surprise) trudged near and threw herself into the pool of water, creating quite a splash. Either she had not seen him, or she did not care that he was nearby. Both scenarios were a little bit worrying for her own sake, and Ovaltine was unsure if she was of sound mind. She resurfaced quickly enough, and seemed to be conscious, though Ovaltine still doubted that she was of sound mind.
"You okay?" he asked, taking a few steps back from the shore. He wanted to give her room in case she wished to get out while also giving himself space. Illness came to mind, and he did not wish to infect himself if she had some kind of contagious disease. Perhaps she would clear that up soon enough and it had just been an honest mistake that she had missed the sight and smell of him.
RE: sunday matinée - Tatum - July 05, 2015
Tatum had become abruptly aware of the other's presence, giving her a slight start. In her one track mindedness she hadn't even bothered to look around her, but even so it wasn't as if she'd have acted any different would she have been aware of her companion previously. She wasn't a timid creature by any stretch of the imagination. The simple and crude truth of it'd been: she was hot and she didn't a rat's ass about anyone's aversion to her intrusion into the water. She was going to cool off and they didn't have to like it but their disapproval wouldn't have made a dent upon her. It was free territory, after all.
Ears perked atop her skull as the voice reached out to her, baritone. Male. Seriously, what was it with the males of this Wilds? Would it kill the Fates to send her a hot female her way once in a while? Even if she was only allowed to appreciate, something she didn't have to touch to do. “I am now,” Tatum was confused by his question, but shrugged it off. “It's hot as balls out.” She informed him with a crooked little grin as she glimpsed at him from over her shoulder, just in case he wasn't already privy to that.
RE: sunday matinée - Ovaltine - July 16, 2015
It seemed as though getting to the water was a higher priority than her own safety. Well, to each their own! She responded sanely enough, and Ovaltine laughed at her second assessment of the weather. "Balls do tend to get rather hot this time of year," he replied. There were a multitude of inappropriate things Ovaltine could have said then, but he had never been particularly lewd. He was a gentleman, after all.
"I'm Ovaltine Driftwood, resident of the open road. And you are?" he asked, hoping to catch a name and some sense of whether or not she belonged to a pack, a mate, or anything at all. Perhaps she was a free spirit, like himself.
Either she was a free spirit, or she was just as crazy as he had thought she was to begin with. Without warning, she scampered off, leaving Ovaltine to himself yet again. He shrugged, watching as she disappeared, before he dipped his head back to the pool and drank from it.