- Feb 18, 2023
- 381
- 55
- 28
don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Since becomin’ Crochet’s mentor, albeit, not quite like a normal mentor, but close enough that Duskpool had begun mullin’ over lesson plans once the molly became more familiar with the territory, though dependin’ on what skills Crochet thrived in, but still needed to learn the necessities to survive these parts.
A rough breath escaped the warrior, uncomfortably sticky because of the swelterin’ heat nearly wishin’ the warrior had taken a break to lap at the river. Too late now, ain’t it? He huffed, muscles quiverin’ with the rough shake, wooly strands frizzin’ somethin’ horrid — damn mop of fur. Ain’t done nothin’ but make livin’ miserable, but he ain’t too thrilled with the oncomin’ winter months that’d surely turn his bones brittle. Already complain’ like an elder, aren’t ya? Sarcastic drippin’ with each word, Duskpool shifted, muscles rippin’ beneath obsidian fur to slam clawed paws into the ground, imaginin’ another beneath outstretched paws, havin’ successfully knocked ‘em over for a killin’ blow.
“Ain’t ready for that one.” He muttered, wooly plumage sweepin’ languidly in a semi-arc, mind lost in thought, filterin’ through countless possibilities. Best start with a casual spar, seein’ where she is on the spectrum but I ain’t too hopeful. He mused, chest rumblin’ with a low, guttural hum.
Tearin’ his gaze away from the ground, molten hues peerin’ at Teeveepaw with a curious grunt, brows creased in acknowledgment. “Hey there, kiddo.” Timbre a low, monotonous grunt.
It’d been a long afternoon, runnin’ through various battle moves step-by-step to fall into museless mutterin’ till he carried onto the next one. “Somethin’ interest ya, kiddo?” He prodded the quiet apprentice.
/ please wait for @Teeveepaw.
A rough breath escaped the warrior, uncomfortably sticky because of the swelterin’ heat nearly wishin’ the warrior had taken a break to lap at the river. Too late now, ain’t it? He huffed, muscles quiverin’ with the rough shake, wooly strands frizzin’ somethin’ horrid — damn mop of fur. Ain’t done nothin’ but make livin’ miserable, but he ain’t too thrilled with the oncomin’ winter months that’d surely turn his bones brittle. Already complain’ like an elder, aren’t ya? Sarcastic drippin’ with each word, Duskpool shifted, muscles rippin’ beneath obsidian fur to slam clawed paws into the ground, imaginin’ another beneath outstretched paws, havin’ successfully knocked ‘em over for a killin’ blow.
“Ain’t ready for that one.” He muttered, wooly plumage sweepin’ languidly in a semi-arc, mind lost in thought, filterin’ through countless possibilities. Best start with a casual spar, seein’ where she is on the spectrum but I ain’t too hopeful. He mused, chest rumblin’ with a low, guttural hum.
Tearin’ his gaze away from the ground, molten hues peerin’ at Teeveepaw with a curious grunt, brows creased in acknowledgment. “Hey there, kiddo.” Timbre a low, monotonous grunt.
It’d been a long afternoon, runnin’ through various battle moves step-by-step to fall into museless mutterin’ till he carried onto the next one. “Somethin’ interest ya, kiddo?” He prodded the quiet apprentice.
/ please wait for @Teeveepaw.
thought speech