Baa Baa Black Sheep

Mars Bartholomew Russo · 11-08-2010, 06:14 PM

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OOC: I come up with weird lyrics, can't ya tell?

And don't forget by the end of the night,
You'll be fist high in your own vomit, alive.
Fifty-six, Fifty-seven, Fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty. Mars had been walking around in his optime form this cold November morning. The man's fur had been growing out, becoming longer to accommodate the winters that were to come in Nova Scotia. His breath was cold this morning, him breathing out through his mouth as he had walked along. The man had been fully clothed as well, his black leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders and zipped up over his chest, to keep the fur from being exposed. He also had a black scarf wrapped around his neck to keep his neck extra warm. To finish his outfit, he had his black jeans that he had made back when he was in California. The man walked along, counting his steps away from his last checkpoint that he had passed about two or three minute ago. He had to restart his count when he had traveled to a checkpoint. Why? because he was crazy, that's the only reason really, seriously. He'd been walking around aimlessly this morning, thinking perhaps. "About what?" would be the million dollar question in this case.

His nose would all of a sudden pick up a scent that he did not know. Then again, what did Mars even really know? He knew only about what happened in his own little world, his little bubble of insanity. So with this being said, he had been looking over to Bartholomew, whom was walking somewhat close behind Mars(a rarity since Bart and Mars didn't get along too well) and the two walked in silence towards where-ever they were headed today. Apparently, the borders was their destination because that's the exact direction that they had been traveling in. Mars, where are we going? Bartholomew actually finally spoke to the quiet man that was ignoring him and his question for a good few minutes. Mars was not in the mood really to talk to Bart, and it was obvious by the shadowed look on his face that sat behind those dark sunglasses. Bartholomew knew the look just because they were the same person, but other than that, Bartholomew knew that he was pretty much indestructible since Mars still knew not to be at peace with himself. Too much self conflict had caused him to become two different people...Literally. Wherever you are not. the man had spoken to the other, annoyed that the man was there. Mars wished not to deal with the loud Bartholomew. He was just that, too fucking loud. Yeah you're funny Mars, now where are we really going? Bartholomew spoke sarcastically to Mars before another whiff of that random scent that Mars had picked up had caused the two men to stop and bask for a moment. Who is that? Should we check that? Mars asked, his head turning to Bartholomew for a moment. Bartholomew shrugged and smiled. You get to handle it though. Try to be nice for once in your freakin' life, okay Mars? Bartholomew would speak to the other man before he would give the other a forceful nudge towards where there would be a gray and brown wolfess would be standing there, clothed much like he, short as well, and with a rope attached to a black sheep that was following her. He would cock his head as he moved towards the woman, mismatched hands forced into the pockets of the jeans he had on, and his blue eyes looking at the luperci woman from behind those sunglasses.

He would cautiously approach the woman, his ears were flicked back slightly, and his head tilted towards the right. Tail was curled because of his doggish ancestry. Who are you? voice would ring in the cold morning air, his tone calm, and voice quiet.

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