08-01-2018, 02:11 PM
[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Often his size was used to his advantage—many believed him to be a puny fighter, and predators barely considered him a meal. However he was somewhat proficient with a sharp dagger, being strikingly precise in a jab. In spite of this, he preferred to talk things through rather than rush in blindly. He was a peacemaker more than he was a vicious warrior, and he believed that perhaps his words would cut deeper than any blade could in his paws. Please, I'm a snack. Just not the one you'd like to eat.
The feline's eerie green gaze settled upon figures in motion, figures that formed what he presumed were the residents of this Tanglewood place, the dark and dank marshlands. Excellent, excellent. Gingerly he would set down the little container of the mini muffins; a gift was a gift, and perhaps these people liked sweet treats. "Hello there. I'm Toxicwaste. Toxicwaste Daremo. Consul of the Styx River Order. That's, eh, the leader." In spite of his resolve and drive to build his mere concept into a potentially successful group, he still felt butterflies in his stomach whenever addressing himself as a dominant. Perhaps because he was never regarded as one, ever.
"I'm here on the Order's behalf to express our state as a new, neutral trading faction. That being said, we don't really take allies in the sense...only business partners." He stopped himself before he would say "or enemies," for then he would be lying. Sure, the Order made enemies...it was expected. But they were not the bloodthirsty ones—rather, they sought to bring about an end to such barbaric groups. "It would be a pleasure to do business to get the ball rolling. If you have anything to offer, of course," the feline went on, a soft smile upon his maw as his weight shifted from one gray paw to another. He looked composed, professional. Yet he was anything but. His support was...crumbling easily, and he feared that he'd have to run the Order alone. Persistence, persistence!
The feline's eerie green gaze settled upon figures in motion, figures that formed what he presumed were the residents of this Tanglewood place, the dark and dank marshlands. Excellent, excellent. Gingerly he would set down the little container of the mini muffins; a gift was a gift, and perhaps these people liked sweet treats. "Hello there. I'm Toxicwaste. Toxicwaste Daremo. Consul of the Styx River Order. That's, eh, the leader." In spite of his resolve and drive to build his mere concept into a potentially successful group, he still felt butterflies in his stomach whenever addressing himself as a dominant. Perhaps because he was never regarded as one, ever.
"I'm here on the Order's behalf to express our state as a new, neutral trading faction. That being said, we don't really take allies in the sense...only business partners." He stopped himself before he would say "or enemies," for then he would be lying. Sure, the Order made enemies...it was expected. But they were not the bloodthirsty ones—rather, they sought to bring about an end to such barbaric groups. "It would be a pleasure to do business to get the ball rolling. If you have anything to offer, of course," the feline went on, a soft smile upon his maw as his weight shifted from one gray paw to another. He looked composed, professional. Yet he was anything but. His support was...crumbling easily, and he feared that he'd have to run the Order alone. Persistence, persistence!
[glow=#607c8b,2,300]NEVER DID UNDERSTAND YOU[/glow] — ☉
haha rip these goofs