oh my god, no idea why it took me this long to reply to this! i kept forgetting! ; ; <333 my my, this thread is old. any chance we can make the date more current? july 9th, 10th or so? if that's too far, it's fine, but i kinda wanted denver to mention having met janos. again, it's okay if not. :oWC: 470

Denver was getting tired of the dense underbrush. He just knew his pants were getting millions of tiny holes poked in them as he walked, certain that he would catch himself on something and fall straight into the largest pile of mud around. His eyes found a clearing, and the mutt high-stepped his way through what was left.

The Associate's desire for information and knowledge often outweighed his unhealthy fear of dirt, germs, and other filth, but here he had had enough. Taking a heavy step out of that dense bit of forest, he immediately checked his body and clothing for harm or debris. Annoyed with the inconvenience, he brushed himself off in a huff and slowly stood, straightening to look around.

There was little centered here besides a pathetically small gathering of water; too small to be a lake, and hardly more than a pond. Unimpressed, Denver's eyebrows rose, frowning as he assessed the land. The water may have been useful, should it serve as a drinking hole for nearby land creatures. The dog supposed it couldn't hurt to at least remember the spot for reference. There weren't many inland bodies nearby, and so he would reluctantly commit it to memory.

Denver had nearly gotten bored with the place already, when the sound of a child laughing made him start, suddenly alert. One ear perked, and the other one tried, failing as the man moved towards the sound of the noise swiftly, though not without caution. A child out here, alone?

But when he saw the small wolf-- someone he recognized, surprisingly--, Denver discovered it was in fact not a child at all. The pale gray man had sat beside the yellow coyote-woman, who had sat beside Eris at the feast. Brows raised again, this time out of curiosity and intrigue, instead of boredom. What the hell was he doing?

Denver stared hard, not caring to disguise or mask his presence before the higher-ranked wolf; though neither did he make himself known, yet. The young man did nothing but watch a turtle (who probably made it's home in the shitty pond) bite onto a stick and break it; he had a large supply of sticks, and seemed endlessly entertained by this trivial, silly thing. Denver was not amused, but approached now, speaking.

"Why not roast that turtle over them sticks, 'nstead'a playin' with it like that?" he questioned, smooth, low voice laced gently with a southern accent. Cooking and eating the beast would be far more worthwhile than just using it's jaws for laughs. Denver's eyes narrowed, staring around the pond as if to locate other stray, easily caught animals. There were none, so he stared again at the young wolf, curious to see if his company would be worthwhile or if he should simply leave.

Oh look, I replied! *fail* WC: 338

Denver remained silent as the boyish wolf continued his strange play. Eyebrows were cocked, face contorted in an odd expression that he bore far too often. Confusion and distaste were clear, but the small grey man never noticed them, for his attention strayed little from the prehistoric herbivore. Shaking his head, Denver took a few steps forward and, with a sigh, quickly snatched the stick from his company's hand.

"The thing don't eat sticks," he commented gruffly, though extended an arm to offer the stick to the beast nonetheless. In swift motion, the twig was broken, instantly lighter after being crushed by the odd, toothless jaws of the animal. Frowning and unsure of just how he felt about that, Denver crossed his arms about his chest firmly, head held high; he was above the droll humor that this boy found himself so enthralled by.

But what was he talking about now? The Arbiter had a strange sense of speaking and odd mannerisms, but he must have been useful according to the Boss, right? Denver had no choice but to trust their King. But still. Pull out, he thought, pull what out? Pale eyes flickered between the crouched boy and the burnt emerald creature, but he could not come to a conclusion. Shaking his head, he laughed out a breath and mumbled a mere, "...What? Whad'ya mean, pull out?" Just as he'd asked it, though, he thought he'd understood.

Pull the turtle out of it's shell? Well, he'd be sorely disappointed, then. "Take it outta it's shell?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he glanced down at the Arbiter; he chuckled, shaking his head again. "Nah, you don't wanna do that, man," pointing at the creature with his half-stick, Denver dismissed the thing with a flick of his wrist, as if using a magic wand. "He won't be much fun once he's outta there," the white dog muttered, eyes wide with honesty; the greyscale wolf behaved much like a child, and all childred hated when their fun was ruined.

omg.. did not realize it had been so long since you'd replied! <3333 iluuuu ; ; sorry it's short.

Denver was unimpressed with this pedantic play, and wondered what more this boy had to offer him than a dull show of ancient beasts breaking sticks. The shaggy white dog grunted in response after the pale boy repeated his activity, as if it proved that he was right, and that the turtle was in fact digesting the fibrous bark. But as pale eyes watched with boredom, he noted the animal spitting out the tasteless stick after each sure chomp of the jaws. Every time the boy would offer more, though, the beast would again bite down. Animals are stupid, Denver thought with a scoff.

The Arbiter seemed determined to investigate the innards of the animal, and he persisted in his questioning. Denver was growing impatient. "It'll die," he said bluntly. Maybe that would end his fun, or maybe it would just begin it. "Do whatever y'want, but I'm not touchin' that thing." Reptiles carried diseases that he wanted nothing to do with. Staying where he was, he crossed his arms and watched the Arbiter, unsure of what to expect from this man, but desiring to know.

<333

Denver had not assumed that the boy understood that a dead animal meant less fun, but it seemed that he did, and simply didn't care. The white dog couldn't help but stare blankly for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Well, if death wasn't a problem, then the Associate had no more answers. Slowly, his shoulders raised in an unsure shrug. What could he say?

Luckily, he didn't have to say anything, and the Arbiter started up again, spouting words that made Denver frown. There was no way in hell he would touch that diseased beast. Scraggly-furred head shook slowly at first, and more fervently as the gray man became persistent. His ivory hands as rose quickly as his brown eyebrows furrowed. His floppy ear bounced with the movement. "No way, ah-ah," he insisted, "I am not touchin' that thing." Pale eyes fixed hard on the green prehistoric creature; he did not like it, and absolutely did not want to put his precious hands anywhere near it. "You can have all the fun you want, but don't count on me t'help you." It wasn't the killing that he minded, but the possibility of disease or injury or mess; none of which he wanted to deal with.

hah.

Bastion left Denver with no choice. The boy's words were spoken with finality, and the ivory dog knew better than to persistently challenge his superior. Denver still held a low rank, but with any luck that wouldn't last much longer. The Associate planned to succeed in this place, and so he would prove his loyalty at every opportunity. His nose still wrinkled at the idea, his face clearly wary and displeased. Although the small gray wolf had not yet forced him to do anything, Denver was well aware of the pressure behind his words. "Fine," he said finally with a growl, snatching the stick from the boy's hand in annoyance.

With a sigh, the flop-eared Associate crept forward slowly, obviously uncomfortable at being so close to the prehistoric animal. Frowning, he held his head high and away from the thing as he offered it the hunk of wood. Surprisingly, it grabbed right on, hungrily. Well, of course it couldn't eat the stick, but... maybe it thought that it could? Stupid animal, Denver thought with an amazed chuckle. "Just be quick," he grumbled, crouching beside the Arbiter at arm's length from the sharp-mouthed reptile.

The animal abruptly chomped down heavily on the stick, and despite it's width Denver could tell it was beginning to split. With his other arm, Denver reached over to grab several more sticks from the pile in preparation, holding one in his free hand while the beast chomped away, quickly breaking through the wood.

<3

Denver had known from the start that this was a bad idea. He hadn't wanted to participate at all, but his low rank required him to submit to Bastion's wishes despite his own discomfort. Frowning heavily, the short wolf-dog kept shoving sticks into the hungry mouth of the amphibian. Pale eyes darted back and forth from the small wolf's hands to the turtle, realizing that this guy was actually trying to pull the thing apart. Horrified, Denver could do nothing but stare in distaste as the tail of the creature finally came off with a sickening rip. The red began to seep out, and the mutt let go of the stick, stepping back as Bastion continued to tear into the now assuredly dead creature. It wasn't long before Denver heard a sharp crack, and saw the Arbiter opening the thing up. It's insides were ripped to shreds, too, and now the dark shell of the turtle was even darker with blood. Red stains covered Bastion's hands, too, and Denver made a disgusted sound. "Jesus," he muttered, trying not to gag at the sight of the innards oozing between his superior's fingers. "I told you it wouldn't be fun after that, didn't I?"

The Associate crossed his arms and looked down at Bastion, wondering what he would do with the carcass now. The meat was surely horrible, but the shell could be useful, he supposed. What a bloody mess.