09-25-2021, 01:56 AM
The onset pitter-patter of dampened toes along slickened cobblestone, a gentle dragging of plush material—it echoed throughout the windy hallow, accompanied by the lanky-limbed drummer boy. Life had been busy as of late, unpredictable even. It had thrown him curve balls and knockouts, sending him jumping over hurdles on once weakened legs to land him in the middle of nowhere.
Albeit, its vastness hadn't been all that horrible; certainly not considering the life that now boomed through sturdy walls at an almost constant basis. They were steadily growing, at an alarming pace in his opinion. Oftentimes he found himself asking how he'd gotten here, and as ironic as it might have been to ponder, he had no one else to thank but the witch that helped bore him... And the women that now also, bore him.
“Meissa, are yew awake?” It wasn't a dreadful hour for the two lovebirds to be seen flocking amuck, but it wasn't he that was swollen with an ill-sent act of love. Not that he regretted it, not fully, that was. “I've 'otten some new bedding, even dried et 'ver the lavender patch Rosemary 'as been growin' by ta 'ot springs.” Would she like the lavender-scented wool? Or would it be too strong for her senses? Bloody, he hoped not.
Though, as usual, his outing had been a rather abrupt one, hadn't it? Having gone out alone to hunt, to kill, to sheer. He had a little help managing it once he'd brought it in, but as he began to walk closer, there was no mistaking the scent of blood on him. His steps had been uneven, hind leg trickling slowly as he'd been pretty positive he'd covered the new hole upon his inner thigh. “Es bouncy bug-free!”
Albeit, its vastness hadn't been all that horrible; certainly not considering the life that now boomed through sturdy walls at an almost constant basis. They were steadily growing, at an alarming pace in his opinion. Oftentimes he found himself asking how he'd gotten here, and as ironic as it might have been to ponder, he had no one else to thank but the witch that helped bore him... And the women that now also, bore him.
“Meissa, are yew awake?” It wasn't a dreadful hour for the two lovebirds to be seen flocking amuck, but it wasn't he that was swollen with an ill-sent act of love. Not that he regretted it, not fully, that was. “I've 'otten some new bedding, even dried et 'ver the lavender patch Rosemary 'as been growin' by ta 'ot springs.” Would she like the lavender-scented wool? Or would it be too strong for her senses? Bloody, he hoped not.
Though, as usual, his outing had been a rather abrupt one, hadn't it? Having gone out alone to hunt, to kill, to sheer. He had a little help managing it once he'd brought it in, but as he began to walk closer, there was no mistaking the scent of blood on him. His steps had been uneven, hind leg trickling slowly as he'd been pretty positive he'd covered the new hole upon his inner thigh. “Es bouncy bug-free!”
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