04-07-2015, 12:13 AM
there's no religion that could save me
no matter how long my knees are on the floor
i'll pick up these broken pieces 'til i'm bleeding
if that'll make it right
Oh-ho, he’s almost too easy? Perhaps she does not know (does not know that the oceans fall from the skies when he commends them to, does not know that his skin changes with the bat of a lash, does not know of whose loins he was birthed). But ignorance is bliss, I suppose – though this woman seems to have a very bitter sense of the phrase.
He’s watching the local foxes – studying, if you will – when she comes to him forcefully, looking of moss and smelling of fury. "Fock’off!” He exclaims when her large side barrels into his; luckily, though minor be his age, Nihlus stands tall. His breeding makeup only confirms the shadows of what his body may become; with Scorch and Hestoni as grandparents, and Sinder – a Warlander mutt – as a father, it only makes sense.
He attempts to bite her, but only manages to stumble when she continues pushing at him. Another attempt simply proves how useless – and disgusting – biting moss is, and Nihlus snarls. Knowing that he cannot physically harm her, and that he’d be damned if he got hustled away by some broad, Nihlus prepares himself for the shift.
It happens just before they reach the edge of the kingdom. Having fallen into the role of ‘poor, weak yearling boy,’ the woman had slowed her pushing. When a small gap grew between the two, Nihlus squeezed his eyes shut and shifted. A feeling like fire flowed through his body (suiting, I suppose. A true sign of heritage). When those glowing blue eyes opened, he stood far below the woman, a large, black-brown hare with white bark along his paws, his one identifying feature in this form. Twitching his whiskers as though snickering, the Tundra-Deserts-Valley child turned to leave.
That is, he turned to leave and nearly ran right into his great-uncle. Fumbling over his paws – he’s never had much practice in this form, just little spurts when he knew the foxes to be sleeping – Nihlus wonders briefly what is to be done. Deciding that this little scene might be just the drama he needs, the rabbit hops backwards a couple times, squeezes his eyes shut, and shifts.
When the burning sensation wears off, Errant is addressing him. A smirkful grimace comes over his features at the jibe, and his reply is only awkward because Errant has the wrong of it, not because he is ashamed; "The dreams usually include pretty gentlemen, not… These.” He gestures towards Lagertha and her clear femaleness. "Though I must say that Scorch would rather approve me with any woman opposed to those that I have my eyes on.” He chuckles.
Hurricane – a man he’s only met through meetings and other such nonsense – joins the party, and Nihlus leans his weight to one side. It seems as though this may be the beginning of a party, and all about him, too. "According to Errant, she’s stealing me away for romantic reasons. She couldn’t have possibly picked a worse fellow though. ”
Ah, Nihlus. Ever the eccentric.
He’s watching the local foxes – studying, if you will – when she comes to him forcefully, looking of moss and smelling of fury. "Fock’off!” He exclaims when her large side barrels into his; luckily, though minor be his age, Nihlus stands tall. His breeding makeup only confirms the shadows of what his body may become; with Scorch and Hestoni as grandparents, and Sinder – a Warlander mutt – as a father, it only makes sense.
He attempts to bite her, but only manages to stumble when she continues pushing at him. Another attempt simply proves how useless – and disgusting – biting moss is, and Nihlus snarls. Knowing that he cannot physically harm her, and that he’d be damned if he got hustled away by some broad, Nihlus prepares himself for the shift.
It happens just before they reach the edge of the kingdom. Having fallen into the role of ‘poor, weak yearling boy,’ the woman had slowed her pushing. When a small gap grew between the two, Nihlus squeezed his eyes shut and shifted. A feeling like fire flowed through his body (suiting, I suppose. A true sign of heritage). When those glowing blue eyes opened, he stood far below the woman, a large, black-brown hare with white bark along his paws, his one identifying feature in this form. Twitching his whiskers as though snickering, the Tundra-Deserts-Valley child turned to leave.
That is, he turned to leave and nearly ran right into his great-uncle. Fumbling over his paws – he’s never had much practice in this form, just little spurts when he knew the foxes to be sleeping – Nihlus wonders briefly what is to be done. Deciding that this little scene might be just the drama he needs, the rabbit hops backwards a couple times, squeezes his eyes shut, and shifts.
When the burning sensation wears off, Errant is addressing him. A smirkful grimace comes over his features at the jibe, and his reply is only awkward because Errant has the wrong of it, not because he is ashamed; "The dreams usually include pretty gentlemen, not… These.” He gestures towards Lagertha and her clear femaleness. "Though I must say that Scorch would rather approve me with any woman opposed to those that I have my eyes on.” He chuckles.
Hurricane – a man he’s only met through meetings and other such nonsense – joins the party, and Nihlus leans his weight to one side. It seems as though this may be the beginning of a party, and all about him, too. "According to Errant, she’s stealing me away for romantic reasons. She couldn’t have possibly picked a worse fellow though. ”
Ah, Nihlus. Ever the eccentric.
Nihlus
rain manipulating, rabbit shifting son of Sinder & Noori
