private RAPTURE ╱ DOGTEETH

[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

( ᴛᴀɢs. )  ❝  Hound's always to be found at the tail end of a mess. Follow any trail of blood or heartbreak an' you'll inevitably find him sitting there too. It seems he belongs with the pain, inextricably bound to the very depths of his heart. Morose fucking thought, that, yet he cannot shake the fullness of it. It'd swallow him whole if he sat with his silence for too long. If only he could set it down somewhere. His heart grows heavier by the very minute, with every breath that he takes, and Hound'd missed his window to spill what bothered him. For all that he had ignored it, for all that he tried to be better, to feel less or more or differently, it rests heavy on sore shoulders an' fills his lungs with river water. He pulls himself along and ignores it, for all the good doin' so would ever leave him with, until those tired paws'll move no longer.

It's late enough hat the only light in RiverClan's camp is from the full, heavy moon so far overhead, or the pinpricks'f light surrounding it. The slow waves are coated silver, somewhere between glassy and alive. Crickets sing, loud enough to be obnoxious, and a soft wind stirs the greenery that surrounds the bank. It'd be peaceful, were it not for his whirling thoughts and the clattering stones his paw keeps turning over. One, then another, 'til the cool wet undersides're exposed to the moonlight. It takes some of the gleam from the environment, and the tom feels all too abruptly guilty for such a thing. Like he's ruining this place. Ruining his home. Stars above, wasn't that the truth of him? Everything he touched turned to rot, blackened and sickly sweet in its decay. Flint'd left him, those who took him in had died. The marshes collapsed to war– interrupting his thoughts, Houndsnarl changed from flipping to tossing, one smaller rock thrown to cool water until it splashes and sinks.

He sighs softly, and goes back to flipping rocks.

†  ooc notes information †

• 
  ooc: —
• ──── houndsnarl. trans male, he/him pronouns.
  ──── approximately 30 moons old, or 2.5 years.
  ──── bisexual with firm male preference; single.
  
  ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes. lean and lanky,  with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride. hound's notable features include his impressive height, the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
• "speech"

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[DogTeeth]

Mind was mystery when it came to the scar-faced warrior, with dark fur dense enough to smother. While he was peppered with humor, there was a seriousness and hardship to Houndsnarl that you couldn’t miss- not if you were looking carefully enough. He was the only one Dogteeth looked carefully, at- not in a sense that the other was fragile, he was far from it. The laPerm simply looked when Hound thought he wasn’t looking. It’s when he isn’t pulling that lopsided smirk nor licking the air with his sarcasm- it’s when Hound is absolutely wonderfully open.

The wandering newly-made father would find himself slipping from the nursery careful not to wake Peachkit- he had seen the dark warrior slip toward the river-side, eclipsing the light filtering into the den’s mouth so he was naturally drawn to the movement.

Through the rattling reeds he follows behind after several long moments to shake out his fur ticked with moss and sleep. He hears the clatter of loose rocks- and then a splash into the grumble of the river. Glittering blue eyes pop up from the mess of grassy tendrils- catching a large paw toying with the stones. Hound, was making that face. Unguarded and tense, he pauses- holding his breath a few moments before noisily lashing his sandy hued tail to announce his arrival.

Even though the light was low- the silver brushed over the silhouette of the large warrior. Battling his dark colors but ultimately the moon couldn’t help but bring even the darkest corners of the night from their shadowy hiding. " you almost look like a raccoon in this lighting " Dogteeth’s soft summery voice breaks through the cricket song. A large white smile is offered to the other, and he lazily sidles up to the warrior’s side. Plopping down with a oof!, a rather uncomfortable stone nailing him in the ribs. He chuckles and adjusts himself with his shoulder touching Hound’s. Incredibly small compared to the other- he has to still tilt his neck back to look up to him.

" H-… hey are you okay?" Dogteeth’s brows crinkle with worry. He reaches a warm blonde paw to place it delicately on the larger’s forearm. Aiming to still his restless sifting of stones.
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