Romance is in the air...this is probably the most beautiful and scenic place in Blossom Forest. For the athletic and determined to come with their mates, for time away from pups. Only adults may come here; some of the ledges are too far apart for teens or pups to cross and some too high to scale.
I was born sick. (Birdyy) IP: 24.62.203.164 Posted on February 6, 2015 at 00:43:01 AM by Bennett
The boy was pretty. Female pretty. He lacked the handsome, rugged look that appealed to so many, women in particular. Not that he minded that. Bennett certainly wasn't here to pick up women. He chuckled at the thought. Sure, the girls would flock about him sometimes and comment on his looks, occasionally flirting, but there was no reciprocation. Still, it was useful for whenever he wanted something and he'd flattered the girls just to make his father happy. But now he found himself without anyone to conspire with, no one to use for personal gain. He could do things himself, of course, but what was the point? People were generally more forthcoming to innocent, sweet girls.
The boy was cunning. He had decided to get himself a girl. Make her fall for him, say what she wanted to hear, the works. Twist her into his own personal spy and, eventually, break her little heart. Perhaps he would be unkind about it, perhaps not. He would see just how useful she could be before it came to that. When he'd asked about places to find a "mate" (the word felt foul when he used in to speak about women), nearly everyone had told him about Romance River. Which was why he stayed away from it. The crowd would make it hard to pick out the perfect girl, especially with competition from straight males, most of which could kick his ass in a fight. Besides, he would only be looking at what he couldn't have. No, Bennie would go to a more secluded, private place, one only one lupine he'd asked had mentioned.
The boy was an actor. He lay on the cliff's edge, looking out over the edge nonchalantly, like he wasn't impressed by it all. Not that he was, anyway. He'd lie and say he knew much bigger lands. He'd been sure to walk through a river and soak his orangey pelt so that it was plastered to his body and showed off his muscles. Girls liked that sort of thing, didn't they? One paw was crossed the other, the picture of relaxation. He kept his head and all its soft angles up, tilted to make him look the most regal. An easy going smile, masked onto the usually serious face, was awaiting the femme who was brave enough to come to him.
The boy was patient. He could hear light footsteps behind him, hesitating for long periods of time. It appeared his text book recreation of "nice, handsome man" was working. He couldn't tell how close the lady was and he could not smell her, for the wind blew against him softly. He didn't turn to speak, just continued to look out over his new home. "You needn't be afraid. I won't bite." he spoke softly, his usually thick, northern British accent clear and respectful. He'd been a servant, he knew how to speak nicely. And if she liked it, he would continue. That was just how he played this little game. Replies: