where the heart is | newcomer

[aesior]

EVERY GRIN WE SHARE IS LIKE.
"speech." . 'thoughts' . attack

The sound of voices distracted the newly made Luminary from his own tasks, waving his tail to the small group he'd been patrolling with, signaling for them to continue their work of searching out the worst areas of damage, to look for the bodies of any not so lucky to escape the storm's rage. Padding through water that soaked his stomach and at times the bottom of his chin, the domestic tom slowly moved his way through the clime that he called home. He had no doubt that if times weren't as hard, Seven would be chastising him for being out and about. Sniffing as he limped out of a body of water, grimacing at the mud coating his paws, a mighty and loud sneeze leaving him, announcing his presence to the two women.

Lifting his head after shaking his body out with a soft gasp at the nerves flaring up in reminder of the injury to his spine, fixing the partially opaque veil that covered most of his muzzle and neck. Grunting soundlessly, he looked up to see Seven and a rather elegant looking woman. Flicking his tail, he trailed over, looking around to admire and o serve what Allison was doing, small blooms of tarragon pointed in her direction upon his shoulders. Looking around, he was reminded of the fact that there was little dry ground remaining available to their use, frowning before taking a breath.

His body changed shape until a cheetah stood at Seven's side, changing his weight often as he stood there, trying to adjust his body to comfort his aching back. Offering Allison a smile from under his veil, he frowned once more before clearing his throat and speaking with a harsh rasp, "There is much to repair and do here. The storm ... has left a lot of damage in it's wake.", he agreed, pausing to cough into his shoulder fur. Catching his breath, he shook his head, "We can't be too upset about intrusion. Our borders haven't been able to be marked since the storm ravaged us. If you'd be willing, we could use your gift in restoring parts of our swamp, and we could offer you a place to stay and a warm meal to fill your belly.", he croaked, speech riddled by coughing fits. Oh how he wished that he could just speak telepathically to everyone.

A PRAYER COMMITTED TO THE SONG WE SING.
aesior opheles of tanglewood. -- grim - feline shifter.

credit @/teef