03-26-2021, 02:55 PM
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RIFTWEAVER
[W]iskerRIFTWEAVER
[div style="background-color:#242924;width:90%;max-height:200px;overflow: auto;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: white;"] "speech"
Riftweaver's social life seemed to follow a particular pattern, one of give and take. There were times when being around people seemed easy, when it seemed he was constantly flitting around the territory from conversation to conversation. These were the times he enjoyed the most, and ones he looked forward to in the mornings. They felt brighter, more hopeful.
However, it only ever took one social mistake for his embarrassment to send him running to his hut to wait out the judgement. Call it social anxiety, or the result of being commonly viewed as the village idiot, a label he hadn't done well in preventing, but whatever you call it, the thought of that judgement that came with mistakes often left his breath stuttering in his throat, his heart seeming to beat too fast yet not at all. The looks others gave him made his ears burn, his pelt itch. As if a big, black hole could swallow him up and it would be a more enjoyable scenario.
Today was one of the good days. He felt he could stand to be around people, and he vowed to watch his every move as he did so. Perhaps if he tried hard enough, paid enough attention, he could prevent another bout of retreat. You see, it was awfully boring when he retreated. Rift would spend those days largely in silence, taking back pathways to avoid other Typhoon members. It was horribly lonely, but a whole lot better than facing the criticism of others, the reality that he would never match up with his other half, never be as respected.
These thoughts did not plague him now, however, as he exited his hut. The sun was warm today, perhaps a placebo as a result of his excellent spirits. A smile was etched across his maw, his leafy mane just barely moving in the slight breeze. The leaves rustled pleasantly, his mismatched gaze closing part way as he stretched the sleep from his muscles. A yawn forced his jaws apart. Rift straightened once more, giving his mane a good shake. Now awake, and in a pleasant mood, the male began looking about, trying to get a grip on the activity happening within the Typhoon. Things around here tended to change suddenly after being the same for so long, a skill rarely talked about.
Riftweaver's social life seemed to follow a particular pattern, one of give and take. There were times when being around people seemed easy, when it seemed he was constantly flitting around the territory from conversation to conversation. These were the times he enjoyed the most, and ones he looked forward to in the mornings. They felt brighter, more hopeful.
However, it only ever took one social mistake for his embarrassment to send him running to his hut to wait out the judgement. Call it social anxiety, or the result of being commonly viewed as the village idiot, a label he hadn't done well in preventing, but whatever you call it, the thought of that judgement that came with mistakes often left his breath stuttering in his throat, his heart seeming to beat too fast yet not at all. The looks others gave him made his ears burn, his pelt itch. As if a big, black hole could swallow him up and it would be a more enjoyable scenario.
Today was one of the good days. He felt he could stand to be around people, and he vowed to watch his every move as he did so. Perhaps if he tried hard enough, paid enough attention, he could prevent another bout of retreat. You see, it was awfully boring when he retreated. Rift would spend those days largely in silence, taking back pathways to avoid other Typhoon members. It was horribly lonely, but a whole lot better than facing the criticism of others, the reality that he would never match up with his other half, never be as respected.
These thoughts did not plague him now, however, as he exited his hut. The sun was warm today, perhaps a placebo as a result of his excellent spirits. A smile was etched across his maw, his leafy mane just barely moving in the slight breeze. The leaves rustled pleasantly, his mismatched gaze closing part way as he stretched the sleep from his muscles. A yawn forced his jaws apart. Rift straightened once more, giving his mane a good shake. Now awake, and in a pleasant mood, the male began looking about, trying to get a grip on the activity happening within the Typhoon. Things around here tended to change suddenly after being the same for so long, a skill rarely talked about.
![[Image: lZWb1ER.png]](https://i.imgur.com/lZWb1ER.png)
![[Image: m8K6iBN.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/m8K6iBN.gif)
