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+---- Thread: gift or curse? [open/event box] (/showthread.php?tid=10857)
gift or curse? [open/event box] - Crackers - 12-15-2019
FOURTHWALL & GLITCHHOP
BLACK-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND / BROWN-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND
MALE - 22 - SOCIAL & VIOLENT / FEMALE - 17 - OBEDIENT & CHEERFUL - THE PITT
______________________________________________________________________________
THEY SAY THAT I AM THE SICK BOY
EASY TO SAY WHEN YOU DON'T TAKE THE RISK, BOY
OOC- I'm gonna [member=1]Orion[/member] because I'm not sure what's in it or if I'm doing this right lol
It had been one hell of an eventful day for Fourth. It had begun with him simply going for a walk to clear his head of all the crap that was going on, when a mysterious trail of fog had led him far out into the neutral grounds. And what he'd found out there had been... interesting, to say the least. It was a clearing in the woods with a bunch of wrapped boxes that resembled gifts, and other people from other clans had also been led out there. Of course, Fourth wasn't sure what had become of them. There had been some voice urging them each to take a box and the Pittian had been the first to do so, attempting to open one- only to have something kick it away from him, causing it to shoot off in the direction of the Pitts territory. Fourth had begrudgingly left to chase after it seeing as he'd been prompted to do so, to open it alone with his clanmates away from prying eyes.
And so the black and brindle fox had finally returned. They were tired andtheir back hurt from their bulging stomach, and he knew that soon he'd have to rest weather he wanted to or not. But he had to find that damn box before someone else did. It couldn't fall into the wrong hands and he couldn't risk a clanmate getting screwed over if they opened it and it was a trap, like a box of fucking cobras or something.
And so the Marauder was on the hunt, attempting to follow the trail of fog to it that had appeared after the white stag had told him to go after it. And finally, he seemed to find it. It had gone all the way back to camp where, miraculously, nobody seemed to have opened it yet.
"God, I'm never getting pregnant again." he growled, frustrated at how much it impeded his ability to be himself. Fourth was reckless and aggressive and liked to party and spar and rough house with his friends. He hadn't been able to do any of that since he found himself in this prediciment, and though he was eager for his children to arrive and didn't regret having them, he knew that he wasn't built for this sort of thing. He lacked that maternal instinct that should have left him feeling warm and fuzzy over it, and all he could think of was how happy he'd be when these little furballs were finally born. He missed how comfortable his old body was, missed the lifestyle of being able to do what he pleased without having to worry about consequences to his body. And yeah, that was probably a selfish thing to say, but Fourth had always been a selfish person to begin with.
"Hey Pittians, come check this out!" the Marauder called, knowing now that they were meant to be a part of it. This wasn't for him, it was for the clan.
WELCOME TO THE NARCISISM,
WE'RE UNITED UNDER OUR INDIFFERENCE
"Fourthwall/neutral/Glitchhop"
BLACK-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND / BROWN-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND
MALE - 22 - SOCIAL & VIOLENT / FEMALE - 17 - OBEDIENT & CHEERFUL - THE PITT
______________________________________________________________________________
THEY SAY THAT I AM THE SICK BOY
EASY TO SAY WHEN YOU DON'T TAKE THE RISK, BOY
OOC- I'm gonna [member=1]Orion[/member] because I'm not sure what's in it or if I'm doing this right lol
It had been one hell of an eventful day for Fourth. It had begun with him simply going for a walk to clear his head of all the crap that was going on, when a mysterious trail of fog had led him far out into the neutral grounds. And what he'd found out there had been... interesting, to say the least. It was a clearing in the woods with a bunch of wrapped boxes that resembled gifts, and other people from other clans had also been led out there. Of course, Fourth wasn't sure what had become of them. There had been some voice urging them each to take a box and the Pittian had been the first to do so, attempting to open one- only to have something kick it away from him, causing it to shoot off in the direction of the Pitts territory. Fourth had begrudgingly left to chase after it seeing as he'd been prompted to do so, to open it alone with his clanmates away from prying eyes.
And so the black and brindle fox had finally returned. They were tired andtheir back hurt from their bulging stomach, and he knew that soon he'd have to rest weather he wanted to or not. But he had to find that damn box before someone else did. It couldn't fall into the wrong hands and he couldn't risk a clanmate getting screwed over if they opened it and it was a trap, like a box of fucking cobras or something.
And so the Marauder was on the hunt, attempting to follow the trail of fog to it that had appeared after the white stag had told him to go after it. And finally, he seemed to find it. It had gone all the way back to camp where, miraculously, nobody seemed to have opened it yet.
"God, I'm never getting pregnant again." he growled, frustrated at how much it impeded his ability to be himself. Fourth was reckless and aggressive and liked to party and spar and rough house with his friends. He hadn't been able to do any of that since he found himself in this prediciment, and though he was eager for his children to arrive and didn't regret having them, he knew that he wasn't built for this sort of thing. He lacked that maternal instinct that should have left him feeling warm and fuzzy over it, and all he could think of was how happy he'd be when these little furballs were finally born. He missed how comfortable his old body was, missed the lifestyle of being able to do what he pleased without having to worry about consequences to his body. And yeah, that was probably a selfish thing to say, but Fourth had always been a selfish person to begin with.
"Hey Pittians, come check this out!" the Marauder called, knowing now that they were meant to be a part of it. This wasn't for him, it was for the clan.
WELCOME TO THE NARCISISM,
WE'RE UNITED UNDER OUR INDIFFERENCE
"Fourthwall/neutral/Glitchhop"
Re: gift or curse? [open/event box] - aine. - 12-18-2019
[table][tr][td]
[/td][td]
[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2e8b57; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"]I'LL COME BACK WHEN YOU CALL ME
The petite vixen watched Fourthwall run past with curious eyes, brows creased in confusion. Since she had finished tending to her garden, Aine decided to follow the marauder into camp. He... She... Fourthwall seemed tired to her.
She bit the inside of her cheek before letting her eyes fix on the object of the pregnant fox's attention. A gift? Immediately, a wariness sank in her stomach. Last time a sudden gift had been offered, the jungle had been set ablaze. Her soot colored paws kneaded into the ground worriedly.
"Is it a... Present?"
A box can't light a jungle on fire, right? The idea felt inertly wrong to her and the fae felt her muscles begin to relax. No fire. Not again.
Shyly, she smiled. "Can I open it, Mister Fourthwall?"
[/td][/tr][/table]She bit the inside of her cheek before letting her eyes fix on the object of the pregnant fox's attention. A gift? Immediately, a wariness sank in her stomach. Last time a sudden gift had been offered, the jungle had been set ablaze. Her soot colored paws kneaded into the ground worriedly.
"Is it a... Present?"
A box can't light a jungle on fire, right? The idea felt inertly wrong to her and the fae felt her muscles begin to relax. No fire. Not again.
Shyly, she smiled. "Can I open it, Mister Fourthwall?"
© MADI