06-27-2008, 08:29 PM
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Table by Tammi!
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Not that I know of! 
-groundbreakers!?-
It was a task that this wolf inadvertently aided her in as he squinted and frowned, trying to smear her image like wet paint on an invisible canvas. So, his hazy gaze hadn't merely been a product of his own sleepless night--he was right out of his mind (or on a load of drugs, of course). An amused grin pulled the corners of her lips despite her tight-lipped attempt to refrain. But it was no use, and by the time that he was mumbling a calmly considering noise, a throaty giggle had bubbled up to the audible surface, and her pearly whites bared a wide smile, tilted a little with the turn of her head--a prime picture of the Cheshire Cat.
She backed away from the broken floor's edge then, and with softer, cared-for steps, she found the ladder to the inhabited level. There, the couch and its passenger appeared illuminated in the sunlight that divided the dust-dimmed, shadowy half-room from the outdoors. Moth-like in her simplisticity, the dark girl walked pointedly for this beacon of light and company. Poe had never been one to pay any mind to reservations, or even common courtosies in the animal kingdom that they still, supposedly, belonged to. Her argument could have been easily presented here and now, between the sky-high male lounging on an old couch, and her own half-drunk swagger outlined by what was likely some girl's prom dress once upon a time. Tight and shaped from chest to hip, then billowing out in a great, pink crinoline glory that ended abruptly at the knees, it way anything but suitable for the world that they had not so long ago evolved beyond.
With the casual gait and easy slump of shoulders that might be expected from an old friend, the small lady sat on a couch arm and smiled at Anslem. He was larger in build than she had gauged from above, and despite his inebriated state, he seemed to have that inborn understanding of his own body and its movements that came from any kind of physical training. He also carried a pack scent, a steady home that clung to his fur the way that the sea salt currently stuck to her own, but true to her lone wolf ways, she was unfamiliar and disregarding of the details the smells could have told her. So he remained a pleasant mystery to her even from face to face. "Hola," she broke the silence, the first barrier, and nudged her head to the right to push the heavy side of her bangs out of the way. They steadily slid back to their original place, and half hid the casually direct gaze that searched his face and settled back onto his eyes.
-groundbreakers!?- In a tower of steel Nature forges a deal To raise wonderful hell
His gaze shifted and turned to find her, and the upside-down profile of his face came into view between heavy, warrior shoulders. His eyes were the same bloody hue as Ahren's, and her heart snagged and lingered there momentarily. She had entangled herself with Ahren once on a night not unlike the last, and he had pulled her from another sorrow that she had denied (such a child, playing make-believe again and again!). But this copper and golden luperci was not her blonde anti-hero, and with this in mind, she pushed away from such considerations that may had led her to sketch out a genetic line between the two rugged-handsome men.It was a task that this wolf inadvertently aided her in as he squinted and frowned, trying to smear her image like wet paint on an invisible canvas. So, his hazy gaze hadn't merely been a product of his own sleepless night--he was right out of his mind (or on a load of drugs, of course). An amused grin pulled the corners of her lips despite her tight-lipped attempt to refrain. But it was no use, and by the time that he was mumbling a calmly considering noise, a throaty giggle had bubbled up to the audible surface, and her pearly whites bared a wide smile, tilted a little with the turn of her head--a prime picture of the Cheshire Cat.
She backed away from the broken floor's edge then, and with softer, cared-for steps, she found the ladder to the inhabited level. There, the couch and its passenger appeared illuminated in the sunlight that divided the dust-dimmed, shadowy half-room from the outdoors. Moth-like in her simplisticity, the dark girl walked pointedly for this beacon of light and company. Poe had never been one to pay any mind to reservations, or even common courtosies in the animal kingdom that they still, supposedly, belonged to. Her argument could have been easily presented here and now, between the sky-high male lounging on an old couch, and her own half-drunk swagger outlined by what was likely some girl's prom dress once upon a time. Tight and shaped from chest to hip, then billowing out in a great, pink crinoline glory that ended abruptly at the knees, it way anything but suitable for the world that they had not so long ago evolved beyond.
With the casual gait and easy slump of shoulders that might be expected from an old friend, the small lady sat on a couch arm and smiled at Anslem. He was larger in build than she had gauged from above, and despite his inebriated state, he seemed to have that inborn understanding of his own body and its movements that came from any kind of physical training. He also carried a pack scent, a steady home that clung to his fur the way that the sea salt currently stuck to her own, but true to her lone wolf ways, she was unfamiliar and disregarding of the details the smells could have told her. So he remained a pleasant mystery to her even from face to face. "Hola," she broke the silence, the first barrier, and nudged her head to the right to push the heavy side of her bangs out of the way. They steadily slid back to their original place, and half hid the casually direct gaze that searched his face and settled back onto his eyes.
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