07-13-2018, 04:53 AM
Even after all the years he had been witness to, Beck didn't understand a lot of things. Hell, he didn't understand most things, including his own existence, but he couldn't begin to comprehend the abrupt shifts to his peers' bodies. How did Fenris suddenly grow a new set of spikes? Why did Amunet's appearance keep changing? When did Iota go from pink to blue? At least all his companions scents remained relatively the same; if he couldn't identify any transformed clanmate through their scent, they might have been strangers to him all over again.
Purblind eyes failed to discern any difference on Freyja's dainty figure, blinking away the previously settled film over amber irises before squinting in disbelief. "What's all the fuss 'bout?" the little ghost mumbled as he crept up behind Fenrisulfr, almost hiding behind one of his magma-infused legs and peeking around the corner of his ankle. Feathers? What feathers? All he could see was a normal tabby pelt -- oh, wait. "Did ya roll in paint or somethin'?" followed his next question as he tilting his head this way and that to confirm the blanched patches of fur on the young goddess' flanks, a bewildered glaze returning to his vision. Beck could imagine Freyja going through with such a mindless act, considering her streak of never thinking before anything. Offering an exasperated sigh that lingered in the stuffy air with his distinct rattle, the grimy feline slouched against Fenrisulfr's heated leg despite the audible hiss of a hot surface meeting a cold apparition and rasped, "I dunno what y'all are talkin' 'bout, there ain't nothin' wrong with Frey."
[align=center]»――➤Purblind eyes failed to discern any difference on Freyja's dainty figure, blinking away the previously settled film over amber irises before squinting in disbelief. "What's all the fuss 'bout?" the little ghost mumbled as he crept up behind Fenrisulfr, almost hiding behind one of his magma-infused legs and peeking around the corner of his ankle. Feathers? What feathers? All he could see was a normal tabby pelt -- oh, wait. "Did ya roll in paint or somethin'?" followed his next question as he tilting his head this way and that to confirm the blanched patches of fur on the young goddess' flanks, a bewildered glaze returning to his vision. Beck could imagine Freyja going through with such a mindless act, considering her streak of never thinking before anything. Offering an exasperated sigh that lingered in the stuffy air with his distinct rattle, the grimy feline slouched against Fenrisulfr's heated leg despite the audible hiss of a hot surface meeting a cold apparition and rasped, "I dunno what y'all are talkin' 'bout, there ain't nothin' wrong with Frey."