09-27-2019, 01:20 AM
Ever since Hush had first arrived at The Typhoon, he had sort of just... existed. Which wasn't to say that he hadn't interacted with anyone. He had, ir was just that he hadn't really settled yet. He spent most nights just curled up in the trees of the jungle or up in the large petal like blade leaves of the palm trees along the beach. He hadn't chosen a permanent place to stay, and he hadn't even really explored the territory too much, but that was going to change now. That morning, he had woken up and immediately wanted to do something different. Often he just went and ate, and then went off to interact with his clanmates, but this time he found that he wanted to just sort of... look around. So, the small golden tom had pushed himself up to his paws, moving along the beach that made up the major part of the Typhoon's territory. His paws dragged along the sand and through the water as he waded in and out, watching people bustle along with their daily business. Eventually he found his paws leading him over the long deck that eventually stopped at the Tempest. The ship had fascinated him since he first arrived and he wanted to see it up close and personal.
He walked up the board that connected the deck and the ship, taking in the intricately carved wood and the golden figurehead at the front. His fur pricked a little at how intimidating the creature looked, even when he knew it wasn't real, but he shook it off, wandering off to explore the rest of the vessel. His soft pastels were the only sound combatting the little splish splash of the waves as he moved throughout the ship, taking in the different mechanisms and lines that held it all together. Eventually he found himself at the weapon storages, and he couldn't help the way his eyes widened as he took it all in. After all, he had his own bladed weapon resting at his side, wrapped tightly around his waist, but he had never seen so many different weapons in one place, and he felt his heart speed up a bit. He carefully admired the craftsmanship of some of the weapons, before eventually someone came in and shooed him off, starting to organize the weapons for the coming battle against the Pitt.
Feeling satisfied with his exploration of the Tempest, he decided to had for another landmark he had heard a great deal about: The Capricorn Tavern. He had heard it was a great place of socializing and drinking, and initially that had filled him with worry. After all, he couldn't talk, and he doubted others would appreciate it if he started scratching words into the floor, so he had hesitated, but eventually decided he should at least check it out. He gave himself a bit of an internal pep talk before walking inside of the establishment, his ears immediately pinning back when he heard a cacophony of different voices coming at him from all angles. NPCs were all around, talking and exchanging anecdotes while messing around, and he was pretty sure he even saw a couple of them in a heated brawl over some game they had been playing. He felt out of his element in the most major way, and his mouth opened and closed in shock before his head shook from side to side. He had thought that he could do it, but he was wrong. Perhaps if the tavern was a bit less packed, or a bit less loud, but he immediately found himself turning around and bolting out and down the steps leading inwards. He didn't even realize how fast he was going until he was back on the beach, panting with the effort of his running, his chest heaving.
It was a few moments before he finally relaxed again, blinking and glancing around with a small frown on his muzzle before getting back up to his paws. His exploring quote might have been fulfilled for the day, but he still had questions that he needed answers to. Still, it wasn't as if he could just shout at somebody to flag them down, so he found himself wandering the beach, trying in vain to flag somebody down who would talk to him. He wished he saw Goldie, so that he could just frantically sign at her, but if she was there his eyes couldn't spot her. He found that he desperately wanted a proper place to stay in the group, instead of just migrating from tree to tree and calling them "home", but he had no idea where everyone stayed. With how fast everything moved around him, he couldn't tell who lived where or why they lived there, or whether or not some buildings were exclusive to certain people in the group. Eventually when he found that he couldn't get anyone to stop for even a moment – all too busy preparing or training for the rapidly approaching end of the war – and he just sighed in defeat, falling back on his flank and sitting in the sand for a long moment, a frustrated frown on his muzzle. Shaking his head just a bit, he began to carve into the sand beneath him, although it wasn't actually any clear words, just an expression of his irritation, "???"
He walked up the board that connected the deck and the ship, taking in the intricately carved wood and the golden figurehead at the front. His fur pricked a little at how intimidating the creature looked, even when he knew it wasn't real, but he shook it off, wandering off to explore the rest of the vessel. His soft pastels were the only sound combatting the little splish splash of the waves as he moved throughout the ship, taking in the different mechanisms and lines that held it all together. Eventually he found himself at the weapon storages, and he couldn't help the way his eyes widened as he took it all in. After all, he had his own bladed weapon resting at his side, wrapped tightly around his waist, but he had never seen so many different weapons in one place, and he felt his heart speed up a bit. He carefully admired the craftsmanship of some of the weapons, before eventually someone came in and shooed him off, starting to organize the weapons for the coming battle against the Pitt.
Feeling satisfied with his exploration of the Tempest, he decided to had for another landmark he had heard a great deal about: The Capricorn Tavern. He had heard it was a great place of socializing and drinking, and initially that had filled him with worry. After all, he couldn't talk, and he doubted others would appreciate it if he started scratching words into the floor, so he had hesitated, but eventually decided he should at least check it out. He gave himself a bit of an internal pep talk before walking inside of the establishment, his ears immediately pinning back when he heard a cacophony of different voices coming at him from all angles. NPCs were all around, talking and exchanging anecdotes while messing around, and he was pretty sure he even saw a couple of them in a heated brawl over some game they had been playing. He felt out of his element in the most major way, and his mouth opened and closed in shock before his head shook from side to side. He had thought that he could do it, but he was wrong. Perhaps if the tavern was a bit less packed, or a bit less loud, but he immediately found himself turning around and bolting out and down the steps leading inwards. He didn't even realize how fast he was going until he was back on the beach, panting with the effort of his running, his chest heaving.
It was a few moments before he finally relaxed again, blinking and glancing around with a small frown on his muzzle before getting back up to his paws. His exploring quote might have been fulfilled for the day, but he still had questions that he needed answers to. Still, it wasn't as if he could just shout at somebody to flag them down, so he found himself wandering the beach, trying in vain to flag somebody down who would talk to him. He wished he saw Goldie, so that he could just frantically sign at her, but if she was there his eyes couldn't spot her. He found that he desperately wanted a proper place to stay in the group, instead of just migrating from tree to tree and calling them "home", but he had no idea where everyone stayed. With how fast everything moved around him, he couldn't tell who lived where or why they lived there, or whether or not some buildings were exclusive to certain people in the group. Eventually when he found that he couldn't get anyone to stop for even a moment – all too busy preparing or training for the rapidly approaching end of the war – and he just sighed in defeat, falling back on his flank and sitting in the sand for a long moment, a frustrated frown on his muzzle. Shaking his head just a bit, he began to carve into the sand beneath him, although it wasn't actually any clear words, just an expression of his irritation, "???"
[glow=black,2,300]LOVE IS NOT A VICTORY MARCH[/glow]
[glow=#245dce,2,300]❝ HIDING IN SHADOWS CAN YOU FIGHT YOUR DEMONS, ♡
29 months & marked by fate [glow=#3b6b5c,2,300]———— can you face yourself? ❞
![[Image: KNILP8u.png]](https://i.imgur.com/KNILP8u.png)