- May 2, 2023
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Urchin spines and sharp shell-edges stick out from their flare-ribbed core, a grouching, loping pile of jagged arcs of night and piercing quills of light. He is moping... and it serves him no real purpose but to fester and rot within his own cage. The reed-striped phantom creeps upon him in the gloaming hours just before night's fall, reaching a tattered limb to sharply prod into his side, a willful attempt to unfurl the tightly wound ball of loathing that seats itself at the edges of society.
"Lay down," is barked in gravel-toned grating, watching him snap a houndish gaze in her direction with teeth bared against his willingness (or maybe it is intentional... it hardly matters). He is too tall for her to reach the tangled spots in his mane, the matts forming behind his ears, so the demand is one of practicality so she is not made to climb him like a tree, it lacks dignity they both ought to cling to.
"I'm not asking."
He is not the half-soft ghost that he had been as a child, a little specter staring at its reflection in the ripples and wondering who it had once been. Still... still he looms like a statuette of his father, an offering forgotten and abandoned to grow overrun with bitter roots. "Come on... let me... clean you up..." whispered softer, an unpracticed motherly sympathy that remembers him for the tiny boy he'd been. All too-long limbs and wide, bugish eyes. -
about
speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
ooc notes ✦
tagging ✶ @CICADAFLIGHT
penned by tieirlys -
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