M - drops of jupiter.

Barrett · 11-18-2011, 10:43 AM

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Barry = so lost XD

The distant clip-clop of hooves did not go unnoticed. But enraptured as he was by the movement of the forest floor beneath his feet, he paid it little heed — only when the rider drew closer did he peer up. His eyes were automatically drawn to the movement of her hand to the spear, and when she called out to him, his ears flattened. He paused in his tracks with a bewildered expression. Her vocalisation was authoritative; her presence was commanding. But what did she actually say? He couldn't be that far gone already, could he? Any other time he would've understood it for what it was: a generic alert or salutation. At the moment, it set the gears spinning, alright, but the clutch just kept slipping. He had no idea what she wanted from him. The air around her rippled and pulsed with its own energy; this extraneous movement distracted him and made the whole thing even harder to process. Uhhh... he trailed off ineffectively, blinking twice.

He briefly wondered if she might be naught but a figment of his own imagination. This feeling was exacerbated when he bothered to really look at her — she was decked to the hilt! Her hair fell well past her midsection and was adorned with carefully placed feathers. Some segments were braided; others were not. And despite its impressive length, not a single strand appeared out of place. The upkeep on that mane had to be crazy; thoughtlessly, he raised a calloused paw to the back of his head to comb through his own shaggy locks, as if he suddenly felt ill-suited to be in the company of such an ornate female. It wasn't a wholly unfounded concern — he found a small twig back there and did his best to brush it aside without her noticing. (He probably failed.) Meanwhile, he noticed other things — her ample bosom; her rounded hips; her cerulean eyes, whose colour was amplified by the patterned shawl. The garment's texture seemed to really jump out at him and he marvelled at the subtle movements along its surface. (Movements which coincided with her breath and the slight shifting of the horse, even if he did not recognise their immediate cause.)

All of these observations took place in well under a minute, but it felt like much longer. His brain abruptly started screaming at him to say or do something, lest he appear too out of his wits; after all, he still wasn't sure if her intentions were hostile. Halfway out of his head, it wasn't surprising the spear made him a little uncomfortable. To top it all off, he was utterly unfamiliar with AniWayan culture. Having never met anyone from there, he didn't even recognise her as one of them. (Silvano had described them as a 'tribe,' sure, but such a minor detail didn't stand out in his memory. As far as he was concerned, tribe, clan, and pack were synonymous.) Finally — What's good? he tried carefully, honey-coloured eyes never straying from the spear very long. He really didn't want to run, especially in this state, but he would if he had to.

Barrett

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