01-02-2010, 06:33 AM
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table by requiem
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504 SSWM
And here I was wondering where to put the thread for Gotham and you put up a thread, ahmg. Hahah.
The weather was far from gloriously sunny, though thankfully it was no nearer to screeching winds with biting sleet. It was cold, but by now the redheaded male from Cour des Miracles learned to bite his tongue and deal with it like an adult. He figured he could keep himself warm if he just kept on moving wherever his feet took him, and then try to backtrack home to sleep. Though, unfortunately, his room lacked a lovely fireplace since it was only a single bedroom. If only he had one; he'd sleep more comfortably at night with the heat rolling from a hole in the wall with fire burning hot. If only, if only.
If wishes were fishes, there would be no room in the seas.
Though, he figured, if he had something to take up the empty space, the heat could stay in the room more. Strel thought that perhaps wood could keep some of that warmth in the swirls and grain. The redhead ran a finger across a thick pine, then shuddering at the poke of the needles. A sigh escaped him, as he gazed to the sea and the cliffs baring view of the sandy shores. Something odd caught his eye; a moving... boat? He leaned out, watching the thing going down the slopes to the sea. Strel moved further and further out until he found himself staring at dead pine needles. He spat them out, dusting his legs of them. It hurt, but he managed to get them all out of his fur and pants.
'Now...what was that?' he pondered curiously, wondering what it was that just descended into the areas hidden from view. It was the matter of a mere few moments before he came to the edge of the long tumble down. Strel eyed it carefully, trying to keep his balance so close to death by falling as an idiot. Gazing down, he saw a figure with that strange object - a boat! The figure itself was mildly familiar, a memory of warmer days and of flowers of the sunshine.
The descent down was nothing short of terrifying. Heights, for some reason or another, frightened the two year old, going on three. He looked inwards, towards the part where path met rising wall. His hands were firmly against the side as well, to aid in his downward climb. How did that guy carry a boat down this way without falling? It was a dizzying thought, no matter how far off the ground he were. Sure, Strelein could climb about ten feet off the ground before he lost the will to climb further. He was such a coward sometimes.
"Hello there." Strel struggled for the name briefly, before it coming to the tip of the tongue, "Hemming! Hello!" Safe at last on sandy, rocky ground, the redhead grinned, feeling the shaking fear stop rattling his bones. The wind had dulled a bit, though the smell of the salty water had intensified. "Is that a boat I see?"
And here I was wondering where to put the thread for Gotham and you put up a thread, ahmg. Hahah.
The weather was far from gloriously sunny, though thankfully it was no nearer to screeching winds with biting sleet. It was cold, but by now the redheaded male from Cour des Miracles learned to bite his tongue and deal with it like an adult. He figured he could keep himself warm if he just kept on moving wherever his feet took him, and then try to backtrack home to sleep. Though, unfortunately, his room lacked a lovely fireplace since it was only a single bedroom. If only he had one; he'd sleep more comfortably at night with the heat rolling from a hole in the wall with fire burning hot. If only, if only.
If wishes were fishes, there would be no room in the seas.
Though, he figured, if he had something to take up the empty space, the heat could stay in the room more. Strel thought that perhaps wood could keep some of that warmth in the swirls and grain. The redhead ran a finger across a thick pine, then shuddering at the poke of the needles. A sigh escaped him, as he gazed to the sea and the cliffs baring view of the sandy shores. Something odd caught his eye; a moving... boat? He leaned out, watching the thing going down the slopes to the sea. Strel moved further and further out until he found himself staring at dead pine needles. He spat them out, dusting his legs of them. It hurt, but he managed to get them all out of his fur and pants.
'Now...what was that?' he pondered curiously, wondering what it was that just descended into the areas hidden from view. It was the matter of a mere few moments before he came to the edge of the long tumble down. Strel eyed it carefully, trying to keep his balance so close to death by falling as an idiot. Gazing down, he saw a figure with that strange object - a boat! The figure itself was mildly familiar, a memory of warmer days and of flowers of the sunshine.
The descent down was nothing short of terrifying. Heights, for some reason or another, frightened the two year old, going on three. He looked inwards, towards the part where path met rising wall. His hands were firmly against the side as well, to aid in his downward climb. How did that guy carry a boat down this way without falling? It was a dizzying thought, no matter how far off the ground he were. Sure, Strelein could climb about ten feet off the ground before he lost the will to climb further. He was such a coward sometimes.
"Hello there." Strel struggled for the name briefly, before it coming to the tip of the tongue, "Hemming! Hello!" Safe at last on sandy, rocky ground, the redhead grinned, feeling the shaking fear stop rattling his bones. The wind had dulled a bit, though the smell of the salty water had intensified. "Is that a boat I see?"
table by requiem