ensuing his return from the outlying grasslands, Lycaon sought his barnacled sister.
he utilized a furcated path within the rainforest to get in and out of the territory without drawing a spotlight to himself. he didn't want to give Chusi or anyone else he might have rankled a chance to snipe him in the daylight, that would be way too easy, and if Lycaon prided himself on anything... it was his ability to be an ass and still stay un-killed.
on his way back in he'd spied with his perceptive little eye, stowed in mycelial cords on the exposed belly of a decaying log, the buff, conical caps of mushrooms. he was still catching up on months of time lost when it came to getting to know Wylla and her preferences re: indulgences (he already knew, like most of his packmates, the strictures addling her mind as they circulated the press like weekly telecast), but only Ingram knew her to an ultraprecise extent. from what he could recall in prior conversations, she was something of a connoisseur--maybe to the length of being considered a mycophile--when it came to the smell of toadstools.
Lycaon was no mycologist, to date, so luckily when ingathering the brittle stipes to his mouth, the bloom he plucked from wasn't the colorful, pretty, poisonous kind that would have been the cause of his death in the following days.
with a pep in his step, he winded his way through moss and tree and vine until he could see slips of beige and ocean blue stippling his view ahead. he'd found that his steps had become a little less coordinated as time went by, and the moss was so very green now. spring had fully sprung in the hour in took him to get back home--it was amazing the way a seasonal transition saturated forest hues and turned his heavyhearted mood around. the birds sure had a lot of warble about, he also noticed.
"Wylllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllie!" he trilled, erupting from the forest and splaying himself proudly on the strand in a showboating stance. a very... slanted showboat. "got y'staaaa-ufff!" he blinked several times to rid the brightness of day from his eyes, bristling his fur as his skin soaked in the warmth of the sun.
he utilized a furcated path within the rainforest to get in and out of the territory without drawing a spotlight to himself. he didn't want to give Chusi or anyone else he might have rankled a chance to snipe him in the daylight, that would be way too easy, and if Lycaon prided himself on anything... it was his ability to be an ass and still stay un-killed.
on his way back in he'd spied with his perceptive little eye, stowed in mycelial cords on the exposed belly of a decaying log, the buff, conical caps of mushrooms. he was still catching up on months of time lost when it came to getting to know Wylla and her preferences re: indulgences (he already knew, like most of his packmates, the strictures addling her mind as they circulated the press like weekly telecast), but only Ingram knew her to an ultraprecise extent. from what he could recall in prior conversations, she was something of a connoisseur--maybe to the length of being considered a mycophile--when it came to the smell of toadstools.
Lycaon was no mycologist, to date, so luckily when ingathering the brittle stipes to his mouth, the bloom he plucked from wasn't the colorful, pretty, poisonous kind that would have been the cause of his death in the following days.
with a pep in his step, he winded his way through moss and tree and vine until he could see slips of beige and ocean blue stippling his view ahead. he'd found that his steps had become a little less coordinated as time went by, and the moss was so very green now. spring had fully sprung in the hour in took him to get back home--it was amazing the way a seasonal transition saturated forest hues and turned his heavyhearted mood around. the birds sure had a lot of warble about, he also noticed.
"Wylllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllie!" he trilled, erupting from the forest and splaying himself proudly on the strand in a showboating stance. a very... slanted showboat. "got y'staaaa-ufff!" he blinked several times to rid the brightness of day from his eyes, bristling his fur as his skin soaked in the warmth of the sun.
![[Image: lieslpixel.gif]](https://image.ibb.co/m7gJQn/lieslpixel.gif){kind=tracking}
run in here come get yall juice
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Messages In This Thread
i was brotherly, motherly through a callous youth - by Lycaon - March 07, 2018, 06:51 PM