keep them cameras rollin' when i roll up in the lambhy

April 11, 2022, a strange thunderstorm has hit. Morðfjall in the Tundra has vanished, and in its place is the Moving Garden, a tropical rainforest. Portals have opened between various locations. Three astral forms can be seen in the skies at night.

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A storm had come and gone in the late hours of the night.

The swollen, hovering, storm-grey clouds finally closing in and breaking. Breaking, with the fervour and flood of heavy, heaving rain and flashing light that had shaken the ground and rocked the earth’s core. Trees shaking, blowing, in the wind and rain.

He emerged, in the early morning, from beneath the bottom branches of an evergreen tree. Its needles and branches waterlogged and sagging, pulled by gravity and catching, dragging, in his fur.

It was cold.

The air unnaturally still.

The sun still rising.

The ground still soft—waterlogged—from the torrential downpour hours before.

He stretched, forelimbs splayed and reaching as he popped the muscles and knots in his shoulders, his back.

He stood and shook the cold and damp from his fur.

Alone.

Again.

His ear twitching at the distant sound of birdsong,

He smacked. Licked his lips unhappily and grumpily.

His ears rolling back against his head.

And he walked.

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Marley seemed entirely unbothered by everything that had transpired, from how she arrived to the weird storm that had come and gone. Now? Well, the husky was simply vibing. She moved, she explored, she slept, she ate and over it went, repeat, repeat, repeat.

Her paws, once pale and rounded were now mucky with the wet soil from the waterlogged earth as part of the aftermath from the storm, padded uncaringly across the terrain with a bounce in her step. Distracted by a body of gold, the woman would tilt her head as she paused and watched him. "Oh," she cooed with a wave of her curled tail, "you're grumpy." His expression wasn't welcoming but really, did she care? ^^

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Jesus.

And what was her fucking problem?

Bounding up to him, her freakishly curled tail bouncing over her hindquarters, and immediately yapping away.

Like she was so fucking smart.

Like she was so fucking creative, saying that, and not the exact same breed of annoying, repetitive bitch he had already encountered endless times before.

His ears rolled back against his head.

His hackles bristling.

The rain continued to drizzle and drip.

“It’s Daighre.” He snarked. Watching her, as he continued to walk. His posture low.

“Daighre.” He repeated. Not fucking Grumpy. The pronunciation slow and pointed. See, maybe, if the stupid bitch could learn that much.

He had a fucking name.

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Grumpy and demanding!

"Hiya Daighre," the husky chirped as rain still fell, tickling against her dusky nose as she decided to trot with him. She kept herself level with his side but not too close, she was reading his body language to a degree, you know. "Pleasure is all yours, I'm sure," the woman added coyly as she swept through the mud, "Marlowe," she added, "or Marley. Some weirdos say Lowy but that's just goddamn weird, y'know?" She wanted company and he was here and really, she wasn't going to be cowed by some boy with a wall. ^^

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He grunted.

Her name was Tallow, or Marlowe, or Swallow, or whatever.

Good.

Great.

Same exact fucking thing.

He didn’t really fucking care what her name was, or what people fucking called her. And besides, he never fucking asked, did he?

No, he just wanted her to not call him fucking Grumpy.

He kept walking.

Letting her fucking prance about beside him like a fucking overexcited puppy, kicking mud up everywhere she went, his ears pinned back against his head.

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Marlowe wasn't entirely surprised he had grunted but it made her lips part in an amused grin anyway. The husky grunted back as she bounced, nearly slipping through some deeper, slick mud. 

"How do you feel about an adventure?" mischief glinted in her sage green eyes as she peered to him, having seen what was ahead and knowing that it didn't look entirely normal -- not normal at all actually -- she had no other desire but to go to it. She would take him along for the ride, somehow. ^^

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“No.” He grunted.

Watching the psycho as she continued to bounce and flounce about from the corner of his eyes. His hackles bristling. Legs stiff. Wary.

He didn’t know what she was after, but he sure as fucking shit knew he didn’t want a single fucking thing to do with it.

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Was it manipulative if she didn't tell him he was walking straight for it whilst being focused on being grumpy with her? No, certainly not, it wasn't her fault that he wasn't paying all the attention in the world and it wasn't her fault that in all of her bouncing, she was chopping and changing her placement so that if he moved away from her, she was angling him towards the glowing hill. 

"I really think you do," Marlowe expressed merrily, her sage gaze watching the little movements of little red bodies and she was buzzing, those were normal but what was atop their home... was not. "Here for a good time not a long time!" She cooed with a laugh in her tone, trying to herd him. 

Would he notice?

Would it be too late?^^

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“Fuck off.” He snapped.

She didn’t fucking know him.

He didn’t fucking know her.

Why the fuck would he want to go anywhere with her? Why would anyone want to fucking go or do anything with her? She was just another annoying, dumb, stupid bitch. Not worth a single fucking thing.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He snapped, again, when she kept fucking walking into him.

What was fucking wrong with her?

Why the fuck was she incapable of walking in a straight fucking line?

Why the fuck did she keep fucking veering into him?

Even fucking Spooky was more fucking competent than her.

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You know, actually, if she had the ability to feel any sort of guilt about this, she'd have decided not to with that tone of voice of his. As it so happens, Marlowe very rarely felt any type of guilt. 

Ah, well, fuck it.

"Let's go, fuckity-fuck-fucker!" She chimed merrily, happy that he hadn't noticed what was ahead because he had been so focused on her distraction. Once she had spoken, the husky would throw herself towards the golden man with full intention to push him into the fiery glow. Marlowe didn't quite realise the ants hill that they were gunning for housed fire ants. In the tumble, she could feel things biting at her delicate paws.

They were too far gone now and she only hoped that they went along for the ride together and maybe the glow was something. If it wasn't, she was likely in for some hellish time once he hit the ground and realised what she had done. ^^

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She lunged.

Sprung forward.

Her target his unassuming—unprepared—turned shoulder and back, and down he went, physically and bodily, her body colliding against his.

“What the fuck.” He snarled.

Turning, twisting, mid-motion.



Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Down into the ant’s den—

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Teleporting from an anthill in Foxfire Woods to a tidepool Whisper Key

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