Firefly Glen Take you like a drug;
Bearclaw Valley
Claw
honey-drawled shooter
146 Posts
Ooc — honey
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#51
Cole raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Not interesting? Nah, I ain’t buyin' that. You’re sittin’ here with me, after all. That’s a recipe for wild tales if I e'er heard one.

He leaned closer, his gaze sharp and teasing, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity beneath it. C’mon, give me somethin’ darlin'. I refuse to believe you’ve led a life of pure boredom.

As he spoke, his demeanor shifted; he found himself becoming more open and genuinely interested in her. He wanted to peel back the layers and see what lay beneath the surface. Everyone’s got somethin' wild in 'em, even if they don’t realize it. So, what’s the craziest thing you’ve e'er done? I promise I won’t judge—just consider it a, uh... friendly challenge. It might just be the most interestin' thing I hear all night.
art © elmwick, commissioned by me.
71 Posts
Ooc — River
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#52
The hyping up made her ears warm. Endearing, almost, the interest in her. It was dangerous. 

My upbringing was sheltered... she admitted slowly as she thought of something she could share. 

An eagle hunted me when I was a whelp.

She pivoted and craned her neck to make the hairs of her thickening pelt stand up and show half of the wound the eagle had left on her shoulders. Gouges stretched with age as she grew from girl to woman. 

Aside from that, I don't think there is much else to tell. I suppose that means I still have some living to do.

Arnarkla's "wild tale" was only just beginning.
Bearclaw Valley
Claw
honey-drawled shooter
146 Posts
Ooc — honey
Offline
#53
Cole’s gaze lingered on the marks stretching across her shoulders, a hint of respect flashing in his eyes. Glad he didn’t take ya, he said quietly, head tilting just enough to meet her eyes. Ain't every whelp that'd make it through a brush with death like that. And one of those feathered brutes? He shook his head, a flicker of a smile at the thought. You earned that one.

Her words about a sheltered upbringing brought a deeper warmth to his gaze, one she might’ve considered dangerous. She didn’t know it yet, but there was a certain respect he held for those who stepped out from under shelter into the unknown, unafraid.

Guess it’s only just beginning, ain’t it? He agreed, nodding. And from the glint in his eyes, it seemed he believed it too, that there was still plenty more for her—maybe for them both.
art © elmwick, commissioned by me.