they were sitting - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: they were sitting (/showthread.php?tid=20155) |
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- Thomas Hart - 08-16-2011 [html]
I hope the date and time are okay, if not, lemme know and I can change it. c: Word Count → 325 There was a new bandage on his leg and a meal in his stomach. He hadn’t known why the man named Markus would show such kind acts when he had previously seemed untouchable. His daughter, Eva, was quite the opposite and a cutie, though she was a talkative one, to the point she was intimidating at first. Thom couldn’t get a word in. She simply continued to talk as if she already knew what he would say. But, perhaps, it was good she didn’t stop for him to answer. Had she been talking about something he didn’t know and ask him his opinion, how would he answer? He wasn’t the greatest with kids. He would have to thank them with gifts later on. For now, he continued to adventure westward for exploration. He had yet to hear of any packs or meet those who had been in the area more than a couple of months. Everyone seemed so new to the area so far as if it was fresh land just discovered. But, the multiple scents of others seemed too great. There were more than just a few traveling soldiers. Taking in a breath, his dark brown eyes glanced towards one tree in particular. It was marked with the claws of perhaps bear. He had already been cautious, but now, even more so, to the point of paranoia. His ears flicking to each rustle within the mixed wood forest. He tried to calm himself by focusing his attention on something else. Thinking of the nice weather as expected from the grant temperatures earlier this morning and staring at the outfit he wore. It was one of his favorites and what he wore most often, consisting of a nice off-white shirt with a dark vest over top, red ascot tie and black trousers. It was working to some account as he began to walk once more through the dense woods, approaching a lake from the north. Table code by the Mentors! Image && Edits by Cait! <style>.thart .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px;} .thart p {padding:5px 5px; margin:5px; text-indent:35px;} .thart b {color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:-.2px; } .thart {background-color:#7e6936; background-image:url(http://i55.tinypic.com/2mmuy4g.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:400px; text-align:justify; margin:0px auto; outline:1px solid #000000;padding:5px 0px 210px 0px;} .thart .inner {margin:0px 10px 300px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(); border-color:#b39573;} .thart .wordcount {color:#5c4528; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #b39573; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style>[/html] - Dixie-May Jackson - 08-16-2011 [html] OOC: Could you maybe date it forward a few days? Not sure why... xD Gypsy was being a pain in the ass at the moment, not wanting to do anything that Wayne tried to make her do. When he wanted her to go left, she turned right, same with walking, trotting and galloping. She was just being so freaking stubborn for some reason! Dixie, who was atop of her delightfully obedient Duke, just laughed and shook her head as she followed along about twenty feet behind. Wayne was cursing up a storm, smacking the large paint's rump and yipping when she did something bad, causing her to jump and shy about in circles. .dixietres b {font-weight:bold; color:#3f392e; letter-spacing:1px; } .dixietres .ooc { font-style:italic; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .dixietres p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .dixietres {margin:0px auto; width:400px; background-color:#c28c2e; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2dgukae.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 240px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#f5b950; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Thomas Hart - 08-18-2011 [html] Like today, the eighteen, perhaps~? Sorry for the delay in reply... and the length. xD; Word Count → 700 The sharp shriek of an unfamiliar creature sent Thomas looking over with wide eyes in the direction it had come from. He was finally starting to calm down from being such a paranoid freak when another thing just had to pop up and leave him cautious… and perhaps a bit too scared for his typical demeanor. Though, anyone who heard such a sound and didn’t know what animal held it would probably be just as taken as he was. He quietly began to move again, tracing his steps to a small circle of bushes with an evergreen tree to the right. The needles below weren’t exactly the most comfortable, but at the sound of heavy, fast beats coming through he didn’t have much choice. Thomas, being stupidly curious as he was, decided to lean forward with his ears pointed at the sound. His fingers curled around a smaller, deciduous tree for support as a flash of white, brown with a large something on top. Thom leaned back mighty quickly. His nose scrunched, ears flattening back in sheer surprise with a ‘what the hell was that’ expression. To him, the blurred object looked like some kind of monster, not a knight and his steed. His glasses sat at the end of his muzzle, and he carefully took them off with a hand. He rolled them in his hand, staring at them from all angles as if they were some kind of dangerous weapon not to be messed with. He had only used them for fashion, after all, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t see perfectly clear without them. Thomas typically sat them away from his eyesight for that reason – around the tip of his nose. It just so happened that he looked through the lenses when that creature came through, making it more so look like a blurred mess. His attention turned from his glasses – still in his hands – towards the path once more. The sound of heavy beats came again, but much slower. One ear flicked back while the other remained forwards, his body crouching slightly over the object in his hands. Most would run by now, but he was one of those people that most would think were stupid for seeing such a monster and wanting to see another. Though, as the figure appeared, he narrowed his eyes just to make sure it wasn’t a devilish creature, but rather, a woman on a horse. She had a thick coat, fluffy like his, but she had off-white fur. Her curled tail made him glance behind him at his own and then, he turned back to inspect his right arm. Thomas was purely in his own world, probably still shocked from seeing such a thing and then relieved when a woman came around on her horse. He assumed that the creature he saw earlier was just a horse and its rider, too. The last thing he had expected, however, was for them to stop and speak to him. His head awkwardly turned up while his arms were still held all over the place. As the chestnut colored horse slowed to a stop, the woman waved at him with a smile – a sweet ‘Sammy’ smile. He gave her a small, awkward as usual, smile back and moved his glasses over to one hand to wave back. She greeted him then, introducing herself as Dixie-May and asked where he was heading. Her accent was interesting, in a good way, he rather liked the sound of it. It was like his (adoptive) father’s brother – his uncle – who had lived a ways a part from them. She seemed sweet, so Thomas automatically relaxed to stand at his full height. He put his glasses back up at the end of his black nose. His lips parted, about to speak when the horse snorted, moving his ears – he didn’t understand how to read horses – and watched him with such eyes that he took a step back. “Um, hello,” he paused, fumbling with his single word. “I’m Thomas. And… I’m not sure where I’m going yet.” ‘Not sure where I am either.’ “Your horse,” he started, staring at it with a questioning look. “Is it easier to travel?” Table code by the Mentors! Image && Edits by Cait! <style>.thart .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px;} .thart p {padding:5px 5px; margin:5px; text-indent:35px;} .thart b {color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:-.2px; } .thart {background-color:#7e6936; background-image:url(http://i55.tinypic.com/2mmuy4g.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:400px; text-align:justify; margin:0px auto; outline:1px solid #000000;padding:5px 0px 210px 0px;} .thart .inner {margin:0px 10px 300px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(); border-color:#b39573;} .thart .wordcount {color:#5c4528; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #b39573; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style>[/html] - Dixie-May Jackson - 08-18-2011 [html] OOC: That's perfect. And word count doesn't matter to me. Quality over quantity, though I do love long posts. So much fun to read and a lot more to respond to. Dixie's light greenish eyes grew wide as she watched the man crouched down in the bushes. It looked as if he were fearful of something as he searched himself over and then peeked up at her nervously. Her smile wavered a little bit at his unsure expression. The girl just hated making other people feel scared and uncomfortable. She dropped her eyes from him to the ground and allowed him time to compose himself before looking back up and listening to him speak. Instead of answering right away, though, she looked him over, taking in his appearance. .dixietres b {font-weight:bold; color:#3f392e; letter-spacing:1px; } .dixietres .ooc { font-style:italic; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .dixietres p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .dixietres {margin:0px auto; width:400px; background-color:#c28c2e; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2dgukae.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 240px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#f5b950; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Thomas Hart - 08-18-2011 [html] I agree. P: Word Count → 465 She stood up in the saddle, his eyes watching curiously as she took a step down from her steed. Thomas never had the pleasure of seeing someone actually riding. He had heard of them and had seen them tending horses outside his father’s cabin, always finding it something fascinating. To control such a large animal – one bigger than even canine in Optime form – was beyond his thought. He didn’t necessarily think of them as anything other than something to help with luggage and travel. They were also prey, but he usually wouldn’t mention that around someone’s… pet? Once Dixie was safely on the ground, she curled a hand over one of the reins. His tensed shoulders relaxed. The horse seemed calm with his rider close by and didn’t look like he would charge at any moment. Though, she said he could come closer, Dixie also warned him that if he had gone after her, he would have a raging horse on his hands. He did understand why she warned him. There were some out here who wouldn’t mind trying to purloin others. “I… I wouldn’t do that,” he murmured, more so to assure himself that he wasn’t the type. Thom, however, was still worried about stepping any closer to the horse. He was about three feet away. If he did something wrong and upset the horse without threatening his owner, he could surely end up with another wound. His eyes drew down towards his bandage, twitching his tail at the thought of another sizable injury. The thought that it could be rude not to go ahead and take a step or two closer came to mind and so, he took those two small steps. “Um, how… should I approach?” He asked, finding it slightly silly that he did as such. But, he wished to remain cautious and kind towards the duo. Dixie-May went ahead and answered his earlier question, too, explaining that travel is much faster on horseback compared to walking. They had strength and stamina. He looked over the horse in front of him, eyeing that relaxed leg like it was waiting to kick out, but the muscles the chestnut had were quite admirable. His eyes followed her gestured hand – keeping the horse in the corner of his eye – and stared down at the heavy hoof prints in the dirt. “So that was your companion,” he blurted without much thought, his tone obviously relieved. The horse seemed to have a lot of objects on them too by Dixie’s explanation, but they were going fast, weren’t they? He nervously flicked an ear, wondering if it was even his spot to ask. “Are they okay…? They were going kind of fast…” ‘Or was that normal?’ They could be scouting the area ahead for all he knew. Table code by the Mentors! Image && Edits by Cait! <style>.thart .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px;} .thart p {padding:5px 5px; margin:5px; text-indent:35px;} .thart b {color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:-.2px; } .thart {background-color:#7e6936; background-image:url(http://i55.tinypic.com/2mmuy4g.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:400px; text-align:justify; margin:0px auto; outline:1px solid #000000;padding:5px 0px 210px 0px;} .thart .inner {margin:0px 10px 300px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(); border-color:#b39573;} .thart .wordcount {color:#5c4528; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #b39573; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style>[/html] - Dixie-May Jackson - 08-18-2011 [html] OOC: I'll use the table you made for me in our next thread. xD It seemed as if the dark mal was concerned for his safety around Duke, as he should be. The horses were docile creature that had a temper and a big capacity for fear that mixed with the size of their muscles and hooves…just wasn’t a great combination. At least for someone who didn’t know what they were doing. She had seen a few canines get seriously injured by their equine companions because they didn’t know how to calm the situation or get control of the threat in time to stop the total freak out. Dixie also knew, and preached to anyone who actively wanted to learn about and possibly come to own a horse, that they must not be weak or prone to going crazy with injury. The big creatures could hurt someone while playing, let alone actually being mad. If said person couldn’t handle a little bit of pain, then they obviously didn’t have what it took to be a horse’s companion. .dixietres b {font-weight:bold; color:#3f392e; letter-spacing:1px; } .dixietres .ooc { font-style:italic; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .dixietres p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .dixietres {margin:0px auto; width:400px; background-color:#c28c2e; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2dgukae.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 240px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#f5b950; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Thomas Hart - 08-18-2011 [html] No worries! *u* Word Count → 330 The promise that the horse wouldn’t hurt him made him wonder if he could trust her entirely. He had already an injured leg and should it be a trick, he would end up getting a fracture, or even trampled to death for all he knew. He took in an almost shaky breath, listening to her explain how exactly he should approach the horse. ‘Approach from the side…’ Thomas began to limp from the bush cover, his bandage becoming more-so apparent. His dark brown watching carefully and his movements were hesitant, yet he tried not to look so jumpy. As he began to get closer, she chuckled with a grin, his ears flicking forward at the sound, slightly surprised that she was so relaxed to be able to laugh around someone she didn’t even know. He envied that part of anyone. While he was shy, cautious and pretty much anything but calm around strangers, others could give them warm smiles, hugs even. She explained that the other horse – a girl – had been giving them issues, so she had given her swat on the rump which made her take off. And that Wayne was fine and probably having a good time. He assumed – as anyone would – that Wayne was the friend of hers. It didn’t seem like a good idea for the horse to go even faster, but what did he know about them? Absolutely nothing, so, he listened and continued to slowly approach the horse. He noticed Dixie-May tightening the grip on the reins and he hesitated for a moment before gently extending his palm on the side of the male’s neck. He took one more step before staying where he was. If the horse seemed okay, he would slowly pet his neck as the hybrid woman had previously showed him. “Is… this okay?” He questioned, turning to glance at Dixie. It felt unreal to him, to be actually touching a horse, the animal he had just moments ago, shied from. Table code by the Mentors! Image && Edits by Cait! <style>.thart .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px;} .thart p {padding:5px 5px; margin:5px; text-indent:35px;} .thart b {color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:-.2px; } .thart {background-color:#7e6936; background-image:url(http://i55.tinypic.com/2mmuy4g.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:400px; text-align:justify; margin:0px auto; outline:1px solid #000000;padding:5px 0px 210px 0px;} .thart .inner {margin:0px 10px 300px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(); border-color:#b39573;} .thart .wordcount {color:#5c4528; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #b39573; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style>[/html] - Dixie-May Jackson - 08-18-2011 [html] OOC: Blaaah. When the man’s hand finally rested upon Duke’s neck, she felt the horse tense up a little bit more. A soft snort blew from his nostrils and she lifted her hand as well, stroking his face in a comforting way. There was a pause of silence between the three of them, just the petting and lavishing attention. The only noise came from the breeze through the trees and the occasional call from a song bird. Dixie couldn’t even hear Wayne and Gypsy anymore, so she just assumed that her friend had gotten everything under control with the temperamental mare. .dixietres b {font-weight:bold; color:#3f392e; letter-spacing:1px; } .dixietres .ooc { font-style:italic; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .dixietres p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .dixietres {margin:0px auto; width:400px; background-color:#c28c2e; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2dgukae.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 240px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#f5b950; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Thomas Hart - 08-18-2011 [html] OOC Text! Word Count → 330 The horse had tensed with his hand, and for a moment, he thought about removing it. He snorted, Dixie moving her hand to his head instead as Thom quietly, gently moved his hand down the chestnut horse’s neck, lifted it up and repeated. She turned to him, as he did to her and asked his question. Dixie said he was doing a mighty find job. So, he slouched his shoulders, his curled tail dropping to a relaxed position. A small smile brimmed on his lips. It was nice. The horse was warm, his coat soft to the touch and there didn’t seem to be anything wrong. He took a step closer as Dixie had suggested, moving his hand down the horse’s neck then to his shoulder. While he was pretty much in his own world once more, Dixie announced that it was time to go find her friend, for he might be freaking out. He caught the name ‘Gypsy’ and assumed it was the horse’s. He glanced towards the chestnut male in front of him, taking a step back as she mounted. “His name…?” He asked curiously. She got comfortable in the saddle and pointed down the trail, inviting him along. It was like how Markus had a few days earlier. This sudden kindness that he couldn’t understand, but he would learn from it and perhaps, be the same one day. His head slowly nodded, walking along the side of the horse to make sure he knew he was there. Of course, if they moved any faster, he would easily be left behind. As they reached the bottom of the hill, the forest opened into the soft meadow of grass with a lake in front. The smell and sight of smoke had him turn automatically in that direction, spying a grazing horse who he assumed was Gypsy and then the end of a hat sticking up from the tall grass. His ears pointed forward, glancing to Dixie with a curious expression. Table code by the Mentors! Image && Edits by Cait! <style>.thart .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px;} .thart p {padding:5px 5px; margin:5px; text-indent:35px;} .thart b {color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:-.2px; } .thart {background-color:#7e6936; background-image:url(http://i55.tinypic.com/2mmuy4g.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:400px; text-align:justify; margin:0px auto; outline:1px solid #000000;padding:5px 0px 210px 0px;} .thart .inner {margin:0px 10px 300px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(); border-color:#b39573;} .thart .wordcount {color:#5c4528; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #b39573; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style>[/html] - Dixie-May Jackson - 08-18-2011 [html] OOC: Wayyyne tiemz. When they got closer to the fire and to Gypsy, the mare whinnied and pinned her ears, stomping her hooves on the ground. It was obvious that her long run didn’t do much to ward off the bad mood, and Dixie wondered what was wrong to make the mare so crass. She shook her head and dismounted Duke for the second time in an hour, standing down right in front of Thomas. He was giving her a curious look, his angular ears pricked towards the fire. Grinning as she began to untie the packs and saddle bags, she turned and waved at Wayne, motioning for him to come over. .dixietres b {font-weight:bold; color:#3f392e; letter-spacing:1px; } .dixietres .ooc { font-style:italic; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .dixietres p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .dixietres {margin:0px auto; width:400px; background-color:#c28c2e; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2dgukae.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 240px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#f5b950; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Thomas Hart - 08-19-2011 [html] waynee~ Word Count → 485 Thomas watched from his position as she took the saddle bags off before the woman turned and waved over towards where the hat had been. A much larger man emerged, coming closer to them, all the while giving him a rather… suspicious or perhaps, glaring look. Of course, Thom was a stranger that Dixie was kind enough to invite along. And, it seemed like there was always one person who would have to disagree with his involvement. He merely dipped his head, giving the guy a short wave of his hand and didn’t expect an answer back. The traveling duo tended to the horse, taking the gear off and he briefly pondered if he would run off at the thought of freedom. Yet, it seemed fine, so he shrugged the thought off. He didn’t wish to interrupt though, as the duo started to give attention to the chestnut horse, therefore, he stood there looking rather out of place and unsure of where to put himself. In an attempt to do something, he pushed on his golden glasses, adjusting the length of where they were on his nose. Other than that, there wasn’t much to fiddle with on his outfit. Maybe the pocket watch, but it had long stopped ticking. The horse was given all the attention Thomas could ever want and then, it was his turn to be in the spot light. Dixie explained to her companion, Wayne, about who he was, where she found him and why he was currently standing there. She said the name ‘Duke’, finally getting the horse’s name. He turned towards the chestnut male with another rare grin on his lips. Yet, quickly turned back with slight surprise as Wayne playfully growled, jumping at Dixie. It looked like honest to god fun, but… it wasn’t something he was used to. His (adoptive) father wasn’t one who interacted by touch and would rather not be at all. So, he grew up not touching anyone. And whenever someone touched him suddenly, found it uncomfortable. His ears flicked back, a frown bearing on his lips and turned away until Wayne spoke. “Um, Thomas, nice to meet you, too…” He dipped his head in a small nod and stared up at the much taller male, getting a good look for the first time. Sure, he was used to being a short one, but Wayne just seemed to tower over his head like a giant. He gulped down, watching as he went to tend to the fire. His dark brown eyes didn’t move from Wayne until Dixie suddenly grabbed his hand. Thomas jumped, flinching at the touch, but didn’t withdraw. She tugged him to the fire where chunks of meat seemed to be cooking. Was he being invited to dine, too? Again? Once the Samoyed mix let go of his hand, he found himself a spot and sat down a bit far from the fire. Table code by the Mentors! Image && Edits by Cait! <style>.thart .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px;} .thart p {padding:5px 5px; margin:5px; text-indent:35px;} .thart b {color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:-.2px; } .thart {background-color:#7e6936; background-image:url(http://i55.tinypic.com/2mmuy4g.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#d39e5f; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:400px; text-align:justify; margin:0px auto; outline:1px solid #000000;padding:5px 0px 210px 0px;} .thart .inner {margin:0px 10px 300px 10px; padding:10px; background-image:url(); border-color:#b39573;} .thart .wordcount {color:#5c4528; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #b39573; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style>[/html] - Dixie-May Jackson - 08-19-2011 [html] OOC: Darkness falls. Sleepy time. Dixie watched Thomas as he sat across the fire from Wayne, looking a little bit nervous and unsure still. Sighing softly, she sat in the middle of them, curling her body up rather small and soaking in the warmth from the flames. For once she was silent, ignoring both of the males and simply staring at the crackling orange and red. The light danced off her light colored eyes and caused her coat to look shiny as the sun began to drop further in behind the mountain peaks. By the time the moon was partially visible, the meat was done and Wayne had passed two sticks to Dixie, who in turn passed them to Thomas. She didn’t really feel like eating at the moment, her appetite just wasn’t there despite all of the energy burned from traveling. .dixietres b {font-weight:bold; color:#3f392e; letter-spacing:1px; } .dixietres .ooc { font-style:italic; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .dixietres p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .dixietres {margin:0px auto; width:400px; background-color:#c28c2e; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2dgukae.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 240px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#f5b950; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Thomas Hart - 08-20-2011 [html] OOC Text! Word Count → 469 They were close. That much anyone could figure out. The one thing he wondered about was exactly how close. Perhaps he really was intruding upon their free time. His ears flicked back, watching the sparks from the fire dance in the slowly fading sunlight. Meat was passed to Dixie and in return, she passed them to him. He grabbed hold of them, kind of surprised to be handed any at all before glancing between the two. Wayne didn’t seem very content, but his eyes weren’t on Thom anymore. They were staring at the wolf-dog hybrid woman. ‘Is something wrong…?’ He glanced towards Dixie who didn’t seem to be in the happiest of moods anymore. She seemed rather down, but before he could really react, Wayne held her close. And got her to eat. His dark brown eyes drew down to his meat, nibbling on it before devouring them each and laying the two sticks in front of him. It felt… awkward, since he wasn’t a part of what was going on and didn’t wish to stare. Of course, Thomas was curious to what had happened to the earlier happy woman. He just didn’t have the guts to dig into her personal business. It wasn’t his place to begin with. Wayne began to speak, his eyes turning to him, shocked to find the larger male not glaring. He explained that Dixie got depressed sometimes, missing her mother and father. Anyone knew how that felt. At least, that is what Thomas believed. Even at his age, there were moments when he longed to go back and see his father. Yet, knew he couldn’t give up now. He still needed to find his place in this world and until then, he promised not to visit him. His ears pinned slightly back, glancing to the side. Once Dixie calmed down, Wayne had set her back on the ground. The Belgian Shepherd-Samoyed mix paid attention only from the corner of his eye. His focus was simply daydreaming, staring at nothing particularly. He cropped up a knee, resting his arm over it lazily and turned his head once Dixie began to speak. His ears flicked toward her. “No need to apologize,” he murmured, offering her the tiniest of smiles and then, a nod of agreement. Sleep might do them all good. He whispered a quick ‘thank you’ to Wayne as he tossed him a rather large skin, soft, comfortable fur lining the inside. He set it up so he could curl the other side around him should he need it. Typically, Thomas would transform to his lupus form when it came to sleeping, but with company and the injury on his leg, he kept in his Optime. Nestling into the skin, he pulled his arms behind his head, staring upward until sleep came to him. Table code by the Mentors! 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