[M] What You Perceive To Be Is Your Reality

Laurentius

POSTED: Mon Mar 25, 2019 10:51 pm

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.


OOC: Late night. Fundy National Park. Marked Mature for "drugs". WC: 415

IC: It was a calm, cool night. The moon shone bright overhead, contrasting the flickering campfire light lit by the solo female sprawled out comfortable and lazy upon colorful native blankets. It was a perfect evening for a little downtime for the cowgirl. She'd been so busy with her duties inside her pack, it was hard sometimes to get away. She loved her work and the effort it took out of her, but she also enjoyed having some time to just kick back and do nothing at all, but get lost in the world around her.

The best way she knew how to relax, as she'd learned back on her ranch back home, was with a good joint, some whiskey and a little camp of your own to just give no fucks about the world in. Nothing mattered once she blazed up. Her mind and body were free to just float away. Any thoughts or stress just magically melted away after the first few hits. The alcohol had her mind swimming along with the buzz that came from the herb. It was late and the western woman was beginning to grow tired but the beautiful night was just so nice she hated to sleep through it and miss the constellations overhead as they slowly crossed the skies. She'd even seen a few colorful shooting stars so far. She wondered what caused the bright lights to fall and streak across the sky and was curious as to what happened when they landed. It wasn't long before these thoughts turned absurd and the woman found herself smiling and laughing softly to herself.

She imagined some space bound wolf in a bubble who controlled the falling star and landed it in special coordinates dictated by some other canid on earth. How fantastical would that be? To travel in space? Shaking her head the Whitsage woman took another swig of her whiskey, and a drag on her half smoked joint of Marijuana and stoked the fire, repositioning on her blankets to better view the skies through the treetops. The rush of one of the many rivers that snaked through the terrain rushed in the background in the otherwise silent night. It was soothing and gave an extra element to the woman's head trip. She watched as the trees reached and clawed for the moon, heard her heartbeat in her ears and sighed contently. It was such a perfect night to just fly away into a herb induced stupor. Absolutely perfect.
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