new car, caviar, four-star daydream

Barrett · 02-19-2012, 12:43 PM

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-completely fails- sorry 'bout the eternal wait, my muse has been really temperamental lately x__X also, smack me if the PP with him coming closer is not okay XD

meet me in outer space

Most of the shoppers paid him little heed as they went about their business. Their eyes would alight as some gadget or nicknack captured their attention, they would chatter excitedly with their travel companions, and their tails would wag as they recognised an old friend or acquaintance across the way. Barry was content to blend into the background on the sidelines; he found the energy pulsating through the crowd fascinating. It seemed to come and go in waves — eventually, the throngs of animated barterers gave way to a trickle of casual onlookers. As the window-shoppers meandered on, another swarm of ardent traders took their place. It amused and awed him how some wolves fought so fiercely to procure items he'd never give a second glance. He guessed it was all relative and circumstantial; surely those less agriculturally inclined would find his enthusiasm for vegetable seeds a little bizarre.

Whatever the case, the longer he observed, the less any given individual stood out in the sea of faces. That was all about to change. Another faction of enterprising customers had descended on the merchants' tents, but it was neither one wolf's aggressive insistence that Rourke accept a dull dagger for a flimsy stool nor a youthful yearling squealing as she ran to a lost childhood friend (or a sibling, perhaps) that caught his attention. It was a muscular man with sleek, vivid, copper-coloured fur on horseback. Intricate tattoos adorned his body and countless piercings accented his sharply pointed ears. Perhaps equally interesting was his apparent immunity to the chaos — he urged his mount forward at a measured pace and carried himself with cool composure.

Their eyes met and the Haligonian offered a friendly, lop-sided smile and a wave of his paw. On-lookers may have assumed the two were already acquainted, but Barry was simply curious — foreigners always intrigued him and he welcomed the opportunity to socialise with someone whose energy seemed commensurate with his own. Only as the Egyptian drew close did some nearby clamour distract him: the irate wolf, in a show of either demonstration or anger, had driven the blunt blade into the stool in question. Rourke stared, mouth agape, as three younger males rushed over from an adjacent tent to subdue the cantankerous customer and then escorted him from the premises. Barry's ears had flattened upon the initial outburst, but they now perked forward as he whistled and shook his head. Looks like someone's had a little too much excitement for one day, eh? he mused to the sandy hound, jerking his snout in the direction of the bristling canine.

He snickered, clearly not perplexed by the situation. This don't seem like your first trip to the rodeo, though, he observed with a grin, standing so he might shake the rider's hand. Barry, he offered as a means of introduction. You ever been through Freetown?

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