- Feb 18, 2023
- 381
- 55
- 28
.anger makes you stupid —————————
————————— stupid gets you killed.
please wait to respond until wolf has responded !
THE LARGE OBSIDIAN-HUED MALE WATCHED with copper-molten hues, a willowy tail brushing against the ground in tandem with his breath. His muscles vibrate in anticipation at the sight of the small rodent, unaware of the lumbering feline ahead. Your mine. He thought smugly, darkened lips tilting into a half-hearted smirk.
His bones groaned in protest for being in a crouching position for so long, muscles twitching in a reminder that he wouldn’t be able to keep it for much longer. Not that he cared all that much. His nose was wrinkled in distaste. Damn body.
Duskpool wasted no time in springing head-on, unaware he had misjudged the leap, scaring the small rodent as he slammed into the bush with various thorns snagging into his obsidian-hued fur dusted with milky white. Fucking—Oh. You’ve got to be kidding me. He thought dryly, finding himself tangled in the prickly thorns that twisted around willowy strands. Damnit.
It seemed he was stuck. Very stuck. To the point he couldn’t twist himself back out without ripping clumps of fur off his frame, destroying the already sensitive flesh. He groaned, tossing his head back which seemed to be the only appendage that wasn’t stuck.
How the hell was he supposed to get out of this without embarrassing himself even more? …God damnit. “Fox dung.” His tone was deadpan, with copper-molten hues staring at the trunk of a tree with an obvious pout. “Anyone want to save the damsel in distress?” He remarked sarcastically, talking to no one in particular. I’m never showing my damn face to anyone after this. Stupid bush and its stupid thorns. Damn, that hurts—He huffed.
thoughts speech
THE LARGE OBSIDIAN-HUED MALE WATCHED with copper-molten hues, a willowy tail brushing against the ground in tandem with his breath. His muscles vibrate in anticipation at the sight of the small rodent, unaware of the lumbering feline ahead. Your mine. He thought smugly, darkened lips tilting into a half-hearted smirk.
His bones groaned in protest for being in a crouching position for so long, muscles twitching in a reminder that he wouldn’t be able to keep it for much longer. Not that he cared all that much. His nose was wrinkled in distaste. Damn body.
Duskpool wasted no time in springing head-on, unaware he had misjudged the leap, scaring the small rodent as he slammed into the bush with various thorns snagging into his obsidian-hued fur dusted with milky white. Fucking—Oh. You’ve got to be kidding me. He thought dryly, finding himself tangled in the prickly thorns that twisted around willowy strands. Damnit.
It seemed he was stuck. Very stuck. To the point he couldn’t twist himself back out without ripping clumps of fur off his frame, destroying the already sensitive flesh. He groaned, tossing his head back which seemed to be the only appendage that wasn’t stuck.
How the hell was he supposed to get out of this without embarrassing himself even more? …God damnit. “Fox dung.” His tone was deadpan, with copper-molten hues staring at the trunk of a tree with an obvious pout. “Anyone want to save the damsel in distress?” He remarked sarcastically, talking to no one in particular. I’m never showing my damn face to anyone after this. Stupid bush and its stupid thorns. Damn, that hurts—He huffed.
thoughts speech