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Ruieze Fields
Open fields and soft grass...
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| sorcier four ❧ no heart ❧ lost soul ❧ taviora |
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Watching the young girl frolic over to the shoreline was something that pleased him to a degree that was probably a bit too exceeding for this simple occasion. The manner that his invitation was given was one that he hadn’t a reason to think up of, it just came naturally in the company of her. She was already off darting through the water, her bark calling out to him in a way that made his thick tail thump quietly, or perhaps too obnoxiously, behind him which send the sediment puffing up in clouds at each beat. Quickly pushing his forelegs out infront of him in an attempted casual stretch, a playful smile twisted his lips as he gave out a sarcastic yawn, like he was giving her a headstart in the ordeal. Collecting his weight amongst all of his paws, they began to sunk into the sand gradually as he made his approach, feeling the wet turf sink between each of his toes. Once he had broke the surface of the water, he felt the cold waters of the last remaining winter brush up against his legs that matted his fur down to the bone, as if to preserve the warmth that he could in a tight bundled fur. His eyes seeked out the form of the white wolf, which truly had never fled from his gaze, to assure that the tides of the river had not taken the best of her but carried her swiftly to shore. He watched as she shook out her pelt, sending the water in flight from her coat and leaving behind a spikey furball, like that of an albino porcupine. Overgrown porcupine, at that. It was a sight that made him even more excited and with a couple leaps into the shallow waters, his final bound left him plummeting into the depths. His head was underwater only for a moment before the weightless trotting fashion of his legs brought him back to the surface. Shaking his head to free his eyes of the water that may obstruct his sights, the water continued to envelop his frame, darkening his fur to bolder, less brilliant hues. It was just as Ambrosia had taken her seat upon the island, watching her tail coil about her haunches, that Sorcier had felt his paws touch the river bed once again. Pulling himself upon the shore, he took a few steps off to the side of her so that, when the weight of the water soiling his coat became a bit too much to bear, he lowered his stance ever so slightly so that he could shudder and contort his body from side to side, producing a mist from the water that had saturated every hair follicle. Just as she, his fur was left in a spikey entanglement with a few drops of water beading up at the tips, falling back to join the earth once more. Slowly making his way next to her once again, he pondered the idea if the frigid waters had taken the warmth from her pelt. He saw no shuddering movements or twitching of her flanks, so he assumed that she was comfortable for the moment. He knew that their still soaked pelts would not provide the same warmth if they were dry, so in a deliberate gesture, he rested his weight down on his haunches right beside her and allowed his tail to coil behind the both of them before it was flush with her own. His ears were pressed back to his crowne in this gesture before he glanced over at her briefly before laying his bottom jaw along her forehead and pulling back so that she would be tucked against his chest. The gesture had many different intentions behind it—to provide warmth, to provide company, and to possible provide other things. The thing he wanted most was just to keep her close. |
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