April 15, 2016, 04:58 PM
Not at all! Thanks so much for joining! <3
A voice called out to him and for a moment Tyulen froze, the streamlined muscles beneath his coat pulling taunt as he prepared, instantly, for fight or flight. A soft snort left the trash princes' leathery black nostrils, his sharp exhale aimed into the dust under foot, the cause of a small puff of it billowing up around his soot masked snout. His head rose slowly, sapphire gaze taking in the shadow borne form of the stranger that had made her presence known. Slowly, his salmon colored tongue swiped across his chops, collecting the dust that had settled upon his nose, tasting the earth for a moment. Still better than rat. Her icy blue gaze chilled him to the bone — which was only slightly ironic because he was thinner than he should have been; but Tyulen wasn't scared. What was there to be frightened of? Death? Death would be a welcomed respite from the hell Tyulen had called life. Probably, he should have died several times over now but he was too stubborn, too resilient and too much of a survivor to give up.
The stranger called him sir, and a sneer tugged at the corners of his sooty lips. “Faith, trust, and pixie dust,” His riposte was a familiar friend, a guard that probably aided in his survival skills. Cope and brush it off with a smirk and sharp sass ...and thus far it worked plenty well. “Does that answer your question?” It was a mechanism, so automatic these days that he wasn't sure he could tell if there was anything beneath that. Some logical part of him — not ruled by the stubbornness, obviously — warned him that chasing her away wasn't a practical or a particularly smart thing to do. After all, he was hungry and two of them stood a better chance at catching something substantial than just him on his own.
But he wouldn't ever beg for help, out of distrust and what little dignity and pride he was able to retain from the brief months in which his life had been good. The part of his life that felt like nothing more than something he had imagined up in his head. His gaze rested upon her with indifference, his ears cupped forth atop his skull as he awaited her response.
The stranger called him sir, and a sneer tugged at the corners of his sooty lips. “Faith, trust, and pixie dust,” His riposte was a familiar friend, a guard that probably aided in his survival skills. Cope and brush it off with a smirk and sharp sass ...and thus far it worked plenty well. “Does that answer your question?” It was a mechanism, so automatic these days that he wasn't sure he could tell if there was anything beneath that. Some logical part of him — not ruled by the stubbornness, obviously — warned him that chasing her away wasn't a practical or a particularly smart thing to do. After all, he was hungry and two of them stood a better chance at catching something substantial than just him on his own.
But he wouldn't ever beg for help, out of distrust and what little dignity and pride he was able to retain from the brief months in which his life had been good. The part of his life that felt like nothing more than something he had imagined up in his head. His gaze rested upon her with indifference, his ears cupped forth atop his skull as he awaited her response.
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Messages In This Thread
if the stars start falling - by Tyulen - April 13, 2016, 06:57 PM
RE: if the stars start falling - by Hecate - April 15, 2016, 09:56 AM
RE: if the stars start falling - by Tyulen - April 15, 2016, 04:58 PM
RE: if the stars start falling - by Hecate - April 16, 2016, 05:04 AM
RE: if the stars start falling - by Tyulen - April 16, 2016, 05:21 AM
RE: if the stars start falling - by Hecate - April 16, 2016, 09:16 AM
RE: if the stars start falling - by Tyulen - April 16, 2016, 02:41 PM