11-10-2009, 10:02 PM
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I'm Drowning Like a Fish in the Sea Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. This was all that Vukasin could concentrate on just then, as he stumbled along with his arms outstretched, a bottle of vodka in each. His most recent favorite, of course. He'd given up the labor-intensive martinis for straight vodka. The Russian stuff was best, but the Swedish wasn't bad. He could have gone for a bottle or two fo Everclear about then, but he'd drunk all of that particular stock from hsi most recent den. As usual, no foresight, no restraint. Nothing but awful, useless, deplorable Vukasin. He turned his head and spat, suddenly feeling bitter at himself once more. The jerky movement was too much for his well-taxed balance just then, however, and he fell face first to the ground, his muzzle carving a shallow furrow. Half growling, half whining, he lay there for several moments before finding the strength to once more climb shakily to his feet.
Turning hsi head this way and that, he finally realized just how far from the bar he had traveled. He was in a forest, a vaguely familiar one... Dampwoods. His old pack had a claim on a sliver of the southern wood. He felt the barest hint of regret for leaving the pack he hardly knew; but only the barest. The alcohol drowned out the rest. Whihc was a good thing, he mused silently to himself as he lifted a bottle to his maw once more. Taking a tremendous gulp, he choked. There was a skull on a stake not ten feet from him. The hell...? he spluttered, eyeing the macabre artifact as he attempted to clear his trachea. What sick fuck had done that? He lifted his muzzle to what little breeze there was and picked up the scent of coyotes through the pine perfume. And blood, of course. Wolf blood, very old. then he heard a noise, as of another stumblign around like him, and falling to the ground. Scowling drunkenly as he stumbled a few steps forward, he calle dout in a slurred, but still rich, husky tenor. "Oiy... Anyone around?"
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.:OOC:.
*dances*
*dances*
I'm Drowning Like a Fish in the Sea Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. This was all that Vukasin could concentrate on just then, as he stumbled along with his arms outstretched, a bottle of vodka in each. His most recent favorite, of course. He'd given up the labor-intensive martinis for straight vodka. The Russian stuff was best, but the Swedish wasn't bad. He could have gone for a bottle or two fo Everclear about then, but he'd drunk all of that particular stock from hsi most recent den. As usual, no foresight, no restraint. Nothing but awful, useless, deplorable Vukasin. He turned his head and spat, suddenly feeling bitter at himself once more. The jerky movement was too much for his well-taxed balance just then, however, and he fell face first to the ground, his muzzle carving a shallow furrow. Half growling, half whining, he lay there for several moments before finding the strength to once more climb shakily to his feet.
Turning hsi head this way and that, he finally realized just how far from the bar he had traveled. He was in a forest, a vaguely familiar one... Dampwoods. His old pack had a claim on a sliver of the southern wood. He felt the barest hint of regret for leaving the pack he hardly knew; but only the barest. The alcohol drowned out the rest. Whihc was a good thing, he mused silently to himself as he lifted a bottle to his maw once more. Taking a tremendous gulp, he choked. There was a skull on a stake not ten feet from him. The hell...? he spluttered, eyeing the macabre artifact as he attempted to clear his trachea. What sick fuck had done that? He lifted his muzzle to what little breeze there was and picked up the scent of coyotes through the pine perfume. And blood, of course. Wolf blood, very old. then he heard a noise, as of another stumblign around like him, and falling to the ground. Scowling drunkenly as he stumbled a few steps forward, he calle dout in a slurred, but still rich, husky tenor. "Oiy... Anyone around?"