Blackbeak Bluff I’ll set the sea on fire with an attitude like this.

@Pagan. ;3 changedmywholemind using someone completely different xD

Back the fuck here. But atleast she wasn’t nose-deep in the stench.

Standing up on a minor cliff, she watched the tides drag in and drag out their catches and confiscate what it didn’t want. Only for it’s bipolar ass to pick it up, and and take it back. But what the hot-tempered girl was really trying to keep her topaz gaze out for was her sister. That minx twin was gone, and she couldn’t pick her scent up for shit. But it was kinda a deep thing to make their meet-up spot a place where you couldn’t smell shit other than salt water and seagull shit.

A huff left the fighter girl’s chest as she was left in a moment of weakness. She hadn’t seen Vyn in atleast a month now - and she was worried for her sister. They always stuck by each others sides, whether they pissed each other off or not. Either way, they made up and moved on. “Where the hell are you.”

’Maybe I’ll have some kinda luck scoping out down there,’ she figured. Thick hips supported her as she leapt heftily from the small ledge. Apparently she moved not just to feel more useful, but because her anxiety was spiking. Helped her work it off. It was either that, or to get into a fight. Or atleast hunt something down. Searching for sisters didn’t exactly keep you full. A bit of a jaunty trot, something choppy and nowhere near stealthy she tossed into gear just to hasten her search. A heated autumn body in a frigid world of wicked waters. 

Immediately, her coat was bombarded with the winds of the sea, ruffling the rivets of hot browns, reds, and creams with a briny breath. Wrinkling her about with the irritation of somehow always being forced back to this place, she used her eyes more than her nares, all while the crashing wale roared in her quickly deafening auds. Quickly she transversed this sandy dune, that grassy patch, leaping over this wrangle of dried driftwood and weaving between these saplings. But it seemed her search for her sister was fruitless. 

The clouds draped in the skyline seemed to boil with an especially irksome timbre – an aqueous god upon the corporeal threshold of mortal existence, his gilded trident threatening to pierce the membranous veil to smote the undesirable with a fusillade of wintry misfortune.  An embittered storm brewed – not yet close enough to strike with icy pellets – though still near enough to cause even the sea to quake under its furled brow and stern sneer.  The wind ravaged what little foliage remained (doggedly) supple, dormant saplings slumbering beneath the lace of snowy sheets whipping in a dance attuned to the whistles of the air – an improper sashay without rhythm, guided by the violent breaths of the greyed leviathan looming in the distance.  His steps were a hurried plod across the stoned earth; purposeful, for he was not a man ignorant to the calloused ways of seafaring tempests: blizzards bestowed benevolence to none.  Shelter was a necessity.  His scabrous pads traced the pathways he had journeyed once before, the familiarity of the bluffs apices traversed with a now sure-footed sense of dexterity – though he is forced to pause as he hears a peculiar succession of stones echoing from the cliffs beneath as they noisily bounce off of the stalwart visage of the precipice.  He lends a quick peak – one he is sure will unearth nothing but the natural ebb of nature – though instead, he finds a rather steeled woman traversing the precarious ledges of the tarred rock face.  She seemed – by the frantic nature in which she progressed – to have been in some kind of insurmountable distress.  A woman blinded by her lunacy – her feet aimless as her psyche coiled with anxiety.  “My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you may be in a spot of trouble,” he called down to her, crouching over the ledge to deliver the slimiest of princely smiles.  He still wore the dried blood of his last meal upon the whiskers of his chin – uncleansed and dirty, though that was all a part of his musky appeal.

@Valkyr phone post, i apologize if it sounds discombobulated! <3

no worries hun; it was actually beautiful ~ all my posts are phone posts. x_x

Valkyr had begun her downpour of heavy doubt while her mind remained a blur. Damnit-

Just as she moved a little closer inland, a bright red flare had snatched her attention, and with it cane a voice. But the voice came before the sight, this spooking the absolute shit outta her. Had the wind not been blowing so fiercely, this dashing bastard would have heard a little poot fly right outta her ass, and self consciously she swatted her tail in a slappy fashion. As soon as her eyes connected with the hot red face of this rogue however, fury erupted in her chest, a volcanic eruption even brighter than him! 

“First, you can kiss my ass,” she heatedly threw at the piece of shit on the ledge above her. “Then you can go mind your business!”

Had she not been so terrified of the man jumping out at her like some hellcolored version of god, she might’ve been a bit nicer...and maybe even tried practicing her little flirting techniques. Even so, it wouldn’t have done her any good, considering she was terrible at it. All she did was hide behind her fury, and that hadn’t really gotten her anywhere. If she ever got laid, it was because this horniness hormone would shove face down ass up in front of any male she came across...
maybe it was bad she told him to kiss her ass.

With a huff, she sat down, overlooking the sea as if she could spot her sister having a bomb ass time swimming around like a damn crazy person out there in those awful waves. But really, she was trying to figure out how best to take back- “Actually, dont kiss my ass, if you don’t mind.” 

She then idly turned a only little bit less vexed gaze up where the chump was. That was a little bit more nice, wasn’t it?