Post by Ladorak on Aug 27, 2010 9:59:20 GMT -5
((And this is a wrap I think!))
"Goodness Molly you'd think we were in the middle of a battle or something." the stoat murmured. He knew how his love reacted to such events as combat and explosions...but he never had her pegged as the kind to go bonkers over a simple bull fight. The whole spectacle had turned him sick, and the stoat felt that the sooner they departed the better. They had a blockade to conduct after all.
Ladorak reluctantly pawed around in his pocket until he came out with the small amount necessary to pay for the grasshoppers. A small idea formed in his mind as he brought the bags over to his potential mate. "Well alright...we'll never go to one of these again. Besides we're on duty after we leave here, so not much opening for sports after this. Though..." He said, brushing her whiskers with his own and letting them intertwine. "Hm...I can think of an entirely different kind of sport to play once we get back to my cabin..." he said, his nose dangerously close to her ear.
"Let's get back early...can find time for some fun before we depart." his words were mischievous, and he pulled back to give her a wide smile. Taking her paw and lacing his claws through hers, he began leading her out of the tunnel, and to the causeway that led off of this infernally hot and swampy island.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saumarez followed Roland's gaze, watching as Steep darted for one of the tunnels. Curiosity overtook the weasel, and he rapidly moved down a parallel path to shadow her and see what was going on. He turned into a tunnel a few rows down from her, heading through it and past Ladorak and Molly, emerging into the sticky hot daylight almost as soon as Steep did.
Furrowing his brow and narrowing his eyes, the least weasel observed Steep's maddened pounding of her head into the grass, nearly dunking herself in some nearby marsh water the second time she did it. What was she...doing? Was she screaming into the ground? Did she have some sort of mental issue...or was this from her pain?
Her pain was that intense that it literally drove her to beat herself on the ground? In that instant pain flared into Saumarez's mind, causing him to lift a paw up to his crown and rub his pawpads over it. "Agggh..." he exclaimed quietly, groaning as a sharp, brief jab slammed into his skull and then departed. Shaking his noggin to clear it, the weasel looked back up at Steep from his distant observing post.
Why did he always have to imagine in such strong form the pain experienced by others? It caused his eyes to close, and a sigh to escape his lips. I'll try and help you Priscilla...someday I'll try and make this better for you...tolerable...manageable...
He turned his back to her, unable to approach her right now. She might simply reject his offer to help, and it was best if he got on his way and got the Crescent on her mission to patrolling and escorting convoys. He paused though, his paw hovering in midair as he almost turned around and contemplated walking up to Priscilla to inform her of how sorry he was, but gritted his teeth, tightened his lower lip and pushed on. Someday...I'll help you someday soon...
END
"Goodness Molly you'd think we were in the middle of a battle or something." the stoat murmured. He knew how his love reacted to such events as combat and explosions...but he never had her pegged as the kind to go bonkers over a simple bull fight. The whole spectacle had turned him sick, and the stoat felt that the sooner they departed the better. They had a blockade to conduct after all.
Ladorak reluctantly pawed around in his pocket until he came out with the small amount necessary to pay for the grasshoppers. A small idea formed in his mind as he brought the bags over to his potential mate. "Well alright...we'll never go to one of these again. Besides we're on duty after we leave here, so not much opening for sports after this. Though..." He said, brushing her whiskers with his own and letting them intertwine. "Hm...I can think of an entirely different kind of sport to play once we get back to my cabin..." he said, his nose dangerously close to her ear.
"Let's get back early...can find time for some fun before we depart." his words were mischievous, and he pulled back to give her a wide smile. Taking her paw and lacing his claws through hers, he began leading her out of the tunnel, and to the causeway that led off of this infernally hot and swampy island.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saumarez followed Roland's gaze, watching as Steep darted for one of the tunnels. Curiosity overtook the weasel, and he rapidly moved down a parallel path to shadow her and see what was going on. He turned into a tunnel a few rows down from her, heading through it and past Ladorak and Molly, emerging into the sticky hot daylight almost as soon as Steep did.
Furrowing his brow and narrowing his eyes, the least weasel observed Steep's maddened pounding of her head into the grass, nearly dunking herself in some nearby marsh water the second time she did it. What was she...doing? Was she screaming into the ground? Did she have some sort of mental issue...or was this from her pain?
Her pain was that intense that it literally drove her to beat herself on the ground? In that instant pain flared into Saumarez's mind, causing him to lift a paw up to his crown and rub his pawpads over it. "Agggh..." he exclaimed quietly, groaning as a sharp, brief jab slammed into his skull and then departed. Shaking his noggin to clear it, the weasel looked back up at Steep from his distant observing post.
Why did he always have to imagine in such strong form the pain experienced by others? It caused his eyes to close, and a sigh to escape his lips. I'll try and help you Priscilla...someday I'll try and make this better for you...tolerable...manageable...
He turned his back to her, unable to approach her right now. She might simply reject his offer to help, and it was best if he got on his way and got the Crescent on her mission to patrolling and escorting convoys. He paused though, his paw hovering in midair as he almost turned around and contemplated walking up to Priscilla to inform her of how sorry he was, but gritted his teeth, tightened his lower lip and pushed on. Someday...I'll help you someday soon...
END