PANTOMIME CRY / intro

[ROOKFANG]

THE HERMIT ─── He couldn't sleep.

Well, he never really could ever since he could remember.

However long he has been around (losing track already it seems), he still could not get used to sleeping among others without feeling a sense of restlessness. What if someone attacked during the silence of the night, stalking within the inky shadows? The ones that clawed at the corners of his mixed gaze as he stared half-lidded to the entrance of the warrior's den. The moonlight was rich tonight, soaking the ground with the silver it glowed with, letting some of the dreading thoughts slowly silence themselves as his attention decided to then focus on his claws.

Sink. Scratch. Lift.

Rookfang kept this clawing at the ground motion in silence as he waited for the constant dreading sensation to lift itself off his already heavy shoulders, but it never did. It never did, not for a single night. Ever since...

Sink.

Right as his eyelids were beginning to ache and demand to settle over his stare, the warm rosy aura of sunrise began to overtake the silvery ribbons he had been analyzing, indicating another night of lackluster rest. Luckily for him, this was only the second night in a row. After a few days, his body would override the gears of his mind and force him into resting, craving any ounce of recovery and thoroughly enjoying it.

Nevertheless, he always kept a jumpy feeling in the morning out being scolded too many times about oversleeping when trying to catch sleep during his apprenticeship, something he wished to remain avoidable during his warrior age. Once, he was old and gray, he could enjoy all the rest he struggled to receive during his younger eras.

A low sigh rumbled out of him as he rose to his paws and out of the den, lean figure brushing against the entrance to slip to sit silently to the side of the den as he raised a sable-colored front paw to groom himself as the others arose in another welcoming day. Rookfang knew he always looked disheveled, contradicting the famous "glossy" appearance many Riverclanners took after. Then again, he wasn't entirely a true-blooded Riverclanner despite his desire to be able to call himself that. His brow furrowed at the thought, the dreadful night when he had been found by the clan he now coexists with. Ever since that night...he could never sleep.

He licked his paw and wiped it over his velvety ears as if it would wipe away the thoughts that lingered from the sleepless night and give him a temporary fresh start to the new day. ​

 

[FALLINGLIGHT]

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⸻ "You look like something a fish threw up," Fallinglight remarks bluntly when he sees Rookfang just outside the warriors den. Can fish throw up? Saltsting would probably know, but it doesn't really matter whether they can, just that Rookfang never seems to get enough rest and the area haloing his nest is usually as thoroughly scratched as a flea-bitten backside. Something bothers him terribly enough that Fallinglight can't remember ever seeing him resemble someone well-rested.

He stretches out on his stomach, enjoying the invigorating pull of sleepy muscles with a wide yawn. Blinking away the remnants of fatigue from his eyes, he stares up at Rookfang expectantly. "Maybe you should see Ravensong about it."
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 / / \ \ 𝙿𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝙰 𝚄𝙽𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙴𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 / / 07.25.23 \ \ 𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚃𝙴

• —ooc:
• — FALLINGLIGHT / / 11 moons old / / amab and uses masculine pronouns; will be startled by the use of any others.
  — warrior of riverclan / / earned warrior name early at 10 moons / / skilled but not experienced / / mentoring [n / a].
  — npc parents / / father died in the great battle and mother left when he was apprenticed / / no contact w / siblings.
  — flirtatious & disastrous bisexual / / fairly indiscriminate (even when he should be) / / closed to long-term romance.
  
  a fairly trim, athletic chocolate lynx point with low white. fur is thick and wavy, and tends to curl primarily around his face and tail when wet. eyes are a bright, gleaming blue at home with the river on clear, sunny days. he is rarely without a devil-may-care grin, though despite his daring personality, has yet to accumulate noticeable scarring.
  
• dear shell, i don't think rookfang sleeps unless his body completely gives out on him. i'm not sure that he'll listen to me about getting help. maybe i could ask saltsting to have a talk with him— and by that i mean drop enough hints and pester him until he finally talks to rookfang. obviously.

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[ROOKFANG]

THE HERMIT ─── He knew not to expect the best of anything in any moment in his life, already accepting that fate had given him an unlucky hand. So when the comment reached his ears, all he could do was lift his gaze from the dry earth underneath his heavy paws to lock onto the voice that commanded such a statement about him. Fallinglight. He wasn't surprised as the younger tom seemed to have quite a cherished affection for appearances. So Rookfang supposed he was certainly letting him down by not appearing as the best version of himself. He tried to keep a decent appearance but no matter how hard he tried, the spiky jagged fur never settled and the shadow that etched the fur underneath his eyes never perished. At least, Rookfang tried.

"Thanks for that image despite me not asking for one." He hummed sarcastically, piercing dark eyes glinting with a look of irritation. Lack of sleep and probes at his appearance weren't a good concoction to have in the morning yet here they were, taking one sip after the other. Might as well join in if he had to deal with Fallinglight's statement. Rookfang shifted slightly back on his haunches as he observed silently the stretching figure and couldn't help but snort at being told to go be seen for medical attention. "I don't think Ravensong would know how to exactly treat what you describe. Maybe you can demonstrate it for me before I go see him."

Despite the flat tone that always laced his words, Rookfang held no true malice for the other. Irritation? Most definitely. Actual hatred? Not...yet. Although that could always change, for now with his aching mind and defeated energy levels, he would just decide to take a moment to lightly bicker if it helped him focus on something other than the wretched gloom that followed him.​

 

[BONERIPPLE]

જ➶ "I don't think insulting him is the way to tell him that he needs rest." The shadowed woman shifts herself as she eyes Fallinglight calmly, tilting her head slightly as she regards the warrior before turning those molten hues upon the one ailing. She knows what it is like to not get enough rest but the tom looks like he could collapse if he doesn't give himself a chance to let his body heal. Her muzzle scrunches up and she knows it is not her place anymore, she knows that, but still the advice lingers on her tongue and she pushes her long limbs to stand. "Perhaps you should take a breather. Maybe go on an afternoon hunt after getting some more rest in." Her own habits die hard. She is...effectively nocturnal most nights because of how her former home operates. She switches back and forth between the two despite much of the clan being sleep at night.

Really staying up late and watching the clan, guarding them as they rest gives her piece of mind. Despite most seeing her as nothing but an invading force she serves where she can. ​

 

[FALLINGLIGHT]

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⸻ The casual angle is the one Fallinglight knows best— and performs best, really. It'd have been disingenous to gently prod Rookfang; the mere thought of a soft or earnest, "Are you feeling okay? Do you want to see Ravensong?" makes him cringe like he's smelled rotten trout. Somebody else might've been able to do it, but it'd feel patronizing, like Rookfang's not a warrior capable of taking care of himself (or not, assuming he hasn't seen Ravensong).

Where Fallinglight can't pull off sweet and guileless, he doesn't think that dry sarcasm carries as much weight from Rookfang. Maybe it's because Fallinglight's gotten used to Saltsting's company, and next to him, any other remark playing at deliberate unawareness is like...watching a WindClanner try to swim. "Was I using too many big words for you? It's okay— not sleeping must've really done a number on you. I get it." He smiles, flexing his toes as he yawns through another stretch.

He doesn't look away from him at Boneripple's approach, even when she chastises him— or attempts to, at least. "Sure, sure. 'Course not. I mean, I don't think he needs anyone to tell him he should sleep. There's not a kit at the end of his name." Smoothly, he straightens up from lying prone to stand. "Anyway, sun's up and I have a good feeling about my fishing spot this morning. Maybe I'll see you guys out by the river later?" He smiles toothily before turning on his heel to trot out for a hunting patrol.

//out!
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 / / \ \ 𝙿𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝙰 𝚄𝙽𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙴𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 / / 07.25.23 \ \ 𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚃𝙴

• —ooc:
• — FALLINGLIGHT / / 11 moons old / / amab and uses masculine pronouns; will be startled by the use of any others.
  — warrior of riverclan / / earned warrior name early at 10 moons / / skilled but not experienced / / mentoring [n / a].
  — npc parents / / father died in the great battle and mother left when he was apprenticed / / no contact w / siblings.
  — flirtatious & disastrous bisexual / / fairly indiscriminate (even when he should be) / / closed to long-term romance.
  
  a fairly trim, athletic chocolate lynx point with low white. fur is thick and wavy, and tends to curl primarily around his face and tail when wet. eyes are a bright, gleaming blue at home with the river on clear, sunny days. he is rarely without a devil-may-care grin, though despite his daring personality, has yet to accumulate noticeable scarring.
  
• blurb goes here

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[SALTSTING]

Fallinglight's pelt brushes his own as he leaves, and though Saltsting's gaze follows him with one lifted brow, he does not allow for his paws to follow. It would accomplish nothing, as much as he may hope for it to turn out otherwise. At times his company may soothe others. More often than not, it seems to incense them further. He does not offer these two the same courtesy that he has accorded his friend. Instead he trots a little closer, nodding respectfully to each in turn. "You misconstrue the care that Fallinglight offers you– honesty is not an insult. You do appear to be unwell. Though it may be a stretch to call you fish vomit, he is not as far off as you may wish." (Indeed they can throw up, though more often than not it is simply a matter of spitting up poorly digested food. That is not unlike what he sees in Rookfang.)

"If there is a reason for your restlessness, it is not out of place for you to seek Ravensong." The dark tom inclines his head towards both warriors once more, dark gaze remaining upon Boneripple. "She is correct. You should rest, and perhaps when you awaken again you will better understand what it is your clanmates try to tell you."

＞ˏˋ  OOC NOTES  ╱╱ 07.22.2023 "𝘐 𝘋𝘖𝘕'𝘛 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘌," 𝘐 𝘚𝘈𝘠, 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘓𝘠, 𝘈𝘚 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘋𝘌𝘌𝘗𝘓𝘠 ˊˎ＜

• ooc: tag out half of the "unintentionally an asshole" duo ig?? sorry adflasdkhj

• saltsting. formerly named idk yet.
  —— cis male. he - him // they - them. unoffended by others. 11 moons old. riverclanner.
  —— sexuality unknown. seems rather impossible to form close relationships with at first.
  —— half pine + marsh heritage. his father being a skyclan kittypet is general knowledge.
  —— earned his warrior name early despite a,, slight disagreement with cicadastar over it.
  
  Being the son of a kittypet, there is much there that Saltsting has inherited. From the sharp, angular profile of an Oriental Shorthair to the trim, glossy coat– he may as well have been his father's clone were one to not look too closely. He is a dark black smoke with a smattering of low white, particularly on his paws and muzzle, as well as very dark brown eyes he inherited from his mother.

• "speech"

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[RAVENSONG]

His name is mentioned and Ravensong sleepily flicks his ears up from his loafed position in front of the medicine cat den. Half-open eyes widened and he looks across the camp to where a group of warriors speak outside of the den. It's far too early to be getting into little arguments, though he's not entirely sure what had been happening. He inches in closer to catch the tail-end of their conversation. The two young warriors are right, in a way—Rookfang does seem restless and unkempt, but the warrior had always had a spiked pelt uncommon for a RiverClan cat, so Ravensong remembered.

Ravensong does not coddle his Clanmates, but he is stern about keeping those who do have known and recovering conditions about staying for full treatment. It's not his place to force other cats to come to him. He had not looked much different than Rookfang in the months after his mentor's death.

"Alas, sleeplessness is something I do not have a full cure for." He said lowly, tail curling over his paws. He remembers his failure at having the right herb to treat Petalnose's nightmares and twitches in self-anger over his inability to fix all things.

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

•  
• 
  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN
  — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.
  
  — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.
  
  — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them"
  — openly suffers from chronic migraines
  — single, but "it's complicated"

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[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

”My, were we that rude when we were that age?” Snakeblink asks Boneripple and Rookfang as he walks past the little discussion, trailing sharp eyes on Fallinglight’s retreating back. It’s unclear whether the question is a pointed reprimand or perfectly genuine: though his tone suggests the former, there’s nothing in his face indicating that he’s aware of the irony of such a sentence. After all, Snakeblink was probably just as rude at that age, if not a great deal more, and has yet to change in any notable way. Saltsting and Fallinglight might still grow out of their attitude, but little hope was left for the lead warrior’s oft-unfortunate phrasing.

His eyes slide to Saltsting, narrowing in consideration. ”Of course you’d suggest a visit to Ravensong,” he muses cryptically, sounding knowing despite the nonsensical observation. To the medicine cat in question he adds, ”Some things are simply beyond you, I fear.” It would be nothing short of a literal, Starsent miracle for the young black tom to cure such an ill.

”Besides, Rookfang here hardly looks as bad as you make him out to be. He is lacking sleep, not dying.”

The observation, coming from a cat who looks the way Snakeblink does, may inspire an instinctive response of of course you’d say that. He keeps long hours, sleeps restlessly and wakes often: he can scarcely remember his last night of full, uninterrupted sleep. The wariness has become so characteristic as to be hard to distinguish from his general air of stressed out negligence: it is just as likely that his face simply… looks that way, with or without sleep.
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——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 43 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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[SALTSTING]

It surprises him to no degree that Snakeblink should agree with the elder of the group that is gathered. He inclines his head– first to Ravensong, and then to Snakeblink, in his typical gesture of understanding. Deference, quite nearly, though there is a raised brow to how he regards the latter. "I had not realized we were so close in age, Snakeblink– I had thought your directness of speech an admirable trait, and one that was shared between us." There is much hidden within those words, but he does not dare clarify. They truly are more alike than either would come to understand, were they not? The cryptic nature of his speech does not endear him to the younger warrior, however. He blinks at him, the subtlest of squints at the corners of his eyes. It quickly turns to consideration, near theatrical in the way that his gaze follows along tabby fur. "I suppose it is not incorrect that he looks better than some in present company. I defer to your judgement on such."

It is best then that he turns dark eyes towards Ravensong instead. The smile here is far more genuine, if equally subtle. "Your diligence is appreciated nonetheless. It would seem then that there truly is naught to do but rest. I wish you the best of luck in this endeavor. And should you seek us out once you have, I am certain both Fallinglight and myself would be grateful for your company." Stiffly, with well-disguised insincerity yet a genuine assurance regardless, he makes the offering to the one who had been so terribly miffed at his companion's very presence.

＞ˏˋ  OOC NOTES  ╱╱ 07.22.2023 "𝘐 𝘋𝘖𝘕'𝘛 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘌," 𝘐 𝘚𝘈𝘠, 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘓𝘠, 𝘈𝘚 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘋𝘌𝘌𝘗𝘓𝘠 ˊˎ＜

• ooc: —

• saltsting. formerly named idk yet.
  —— cis male. he - him // they - them. unoffended by others. 11 moons old. riverclanner.
  —— sexuality unknown. seems rather impossible to form close relationships with at first.
  —— half pine + marsh heritage. his father being a skyclan kittypet is general knowledge.
  —— earned his warrior name early despite a,, slight disagreement with cicadastar over it.
  
  Being the son of a kittypet, there is much there that Saltsting has inherited. From the sharp, angular profile of an Oriental Shorthair to the trim, glossy coat– he may as well have been his father's clone were one to not look too closely. He is a dark black smoke with a smattering of low white, particularly on his paws and muzzle, as well as very dark brown eyes he inherited from his mother.

• "speech"

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[ROOKFANG]

THE HERMIT ─── This was...not what he expected and certainly not what he wanted in general, especially this early in the cursed morning. He couldn't act surprised as the day began to unfurl and shine, his heavy gaze now sliding back to his automatic half-lidded stare, the golden orange disappearing as he hoped he wouldn't develop a painful headache from the sunlight. Rookfang's awareness of his appearance was beginning to grow like a tumultuous storm. He didn't bother to hit back with a snide comment to the retreating form of Fallinglight, if the other tom simply commented and dashed away then he wasn't worth a bicker. His attention did slide over to the rising figure of Boneripple, hearing her advice.

He did find it comforting the way she offered advice, as he had previously used methods in that sort of way to ease his restlessness. The disappointment of his situation was due to the fact it was from an experience as a child that haunted him. After that, it clung on like sap, inseparable and painful to rid despite how strong the river's currents may be. The brawny warrior straightened himself as she arrived. "That might be helpful." He didn't try to look her in the eye as he lied through his teeth, exhaustion helping hide his more obvious behaviors when he was caught lying. At this point, he wasn't sure what to say or do to simply say he was fine since it appeared no one thought he looked fine when this was just another bustling morning for him.

The speckled tom was beginning to grow even more wary, finding himself in a limelight that refused to leave him. He felt a twinge of distasteful nausea scratch at the back of his throat as Saltsting's commentary. Again with the irksome defense of it coming from a place of 'good intentions'. "I have already sought aid before. With..." His low voice went to a slow stop as Ravensong arrived and he gave a stiff nod in greeting as the healer stated the unfortunate truth. Rookfang then couldn't help but snort in defeated agreement with Snakeblink's comment about the rudeness as if Rookfang would somehow find enjoyment in such after not a wink of sleep had refused to overtake him.

"I...appreciate-" His steely stare flashes quickly to the ground, "-the concerns but as Ravensong stated, issues with sleep aren't as easily healed as small cuts." He spoke with plenty of experience, moons have passed and nothing had worked, having previously frustrated former medicine cats and most likely would have to Ravensong. The last thing Rookfang wanted to do was add in another issue for the other to deal with when the dark chocolate warrior had already accepted his fate with the night and its ghosts.​

 

[hazecloud]

The morning had graced soft silvery features with a freshwater breeze as she stepped away from the warriors den. Early to rise so she could fit a meal before the start of her chores, Hazecloud had politely nodded in silent greeting to Rookfang when she left the shelter of reeds behind. She hadn't imagined the other stirring warriors would start their waking moments being crude to the silent tom, but as she returned with the weight of a water vole in her jaws, she didn't have to imagine it at all. Fallinglight's affront, muffled from the distance between, had her tail flicking in shocking disturbance. She doesn't say anything right away as the dark-furred tom shoots back his own reply to the unnecessary harshness.

Hazecloud can't hold back the sharp, bitter exhale in her throat at Fallinglight's last retort. She even found Boneripple agreeable in the moment, despite her presumptuous thoughts of the ex-Medicine Cat. "Might need to add kit to yours." Her voice is hardly above a mutter, not meant to be heard by anyone but herself. Such brutish words towards someone clearly struggling, she wondered how Fallinglight would feel if the Clan treated him the same in the face of his struggles.

Saltsting's defense toward the young warrior is laughable. Light green gaze turned upwards as she rolled her eyes, resting them on Ravensong as he approached. She hoped the mention of his name hadn't drawn him away from something important. The shine in her eyes wordlessly spoke, 'Can you believe this?'

"Hurling insults to the senior warriors is behavior I'd expect from Otterpaw, quite frankly." Hazecloud huffed. The vole, dropped between her paws before she had spoke, was gently offered to the sleep-deprived tom. A gesture of kindness amidst the unexpected throes of judgement. "If you need more polite company, perhaps we can start your morning over." ​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

He'd been half-asleep, tuned in slightly but not entirely paying attention nearby. The sun was warm and his dark coat drew in the heat to blanket him in the feeling of kit snug within the curl of its mother's body. Smokethroat did not want to rise and address what amounted to a bit of poking fun at one another until it turned into an ordeal of cats getting uppity on the behalf of another who was perfectly capable of speaking up for himself as needed. Only then did he give a gruff sigh and rise to stand on stiff limbs, a fair moment or two after Fallinglight had already stalked off at Boneripple's rebuke.
"If there is any cat who can be described as something a fish threw up it's me..." Sleeping was not coming easy to him as well, constantly left restless and unsure of how to handle the itch that made him want to thrash about angrily, he stalks over on heavy steps with his head up and single eye narrowed thoughtfully to what was essentially a group of grown warriors acting like petty kittens over name calling. He has half a mind to tell them all to get lost so the camp is basked once again in peaceful quiet and he can resume wallowing in his own feelings of useless inferiority until he was able to resume his duties once more. He could sympathize with Rookfang's misery, it was not easy adjusting and he knew as well there was not much to be done for it. He'd questioned Beesong some time before about the issue himself and got the same answer Ravensong gave now.

A sharp glance catches the end of Hazecloud's comment and he arches a brow, that lone orange eye narrowing, "Well, here is hoping Ripplesnap rids him of that insolence before I get my paws on him." He would be far less gentle in breaking an apprentice of that disrespectful habit; talking back to your superiors is something a kitten does...or Boneripple does. When he started training his apprentices again the backtalk was going to be the first thing to go, he'd very quickly squashed any attempt at disrespect from Iciclefang early on and their training had gone smoothly from that point forward.
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[CICADASTAR]

there was nothing quite like listening to his warriors bicker. vitriol drips from their very fangs, hangs to their tongues in subdued passive aggression. when smokethroat moves from where he had been lounging, pale eyes slit, snake-like against the blaring midday sun. dark pelt shifts and a softly hissed, " don’t get involved. " falls between caged teeth, a whisper for his mate alone — and one either not heard, or not heeded. the mottled tom watches miserably as the single feline to thwart him wobbles away towards a rousing storm, thick tail flipping rhythmically against the pebbled clearing. from where he lounges still on his side, he watches the tom approach them, angles his ears forward to listen. it was like him, to rouse his sunbathed semi - sleep for some kittish squabble, and the leader feels almost agitated more by the knowledge that his paws itch to follow.

and he does. with a mighty huff, the river king lifts himself to full, spindly height, lurking behind his mate on ghostly paws. a shadow, silent and billowing against the gentle greenleaf breeze. nothing for that, ravensong says, in more or less words, ” ah, but how about something that would make our warriors act their age? hm? “ towards ravensong, his angled head swings, chin tipped upwards in irritation. could anyone hold their tongue, just once? he would not say how hypocritical a thought it was, ” starclan knows we’ve a few that need it. “

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗

• i.
  
• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
  
  
  m. he / him. black smoke & tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt - blue eyes. a handsome, looming tom bearing patchwork black - silver curls that fall over his slim figure in loose, shining rivulets, broken with white and glossy from his fish diet. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unusually tall amongst his peers, and holds himself with a tragic grace, poised and prim and ever - aware of how he is being perceived.
  
  ᨒ gay, mated to smokethroat. smells like wet stone & moss.
  ᨒ speaks with a german accent. 50 moons, ages every 50 posts.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• "speech

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