09-23-2018, 05:19 PM
Leroy allowed himself to smile once Ophelia first spoke, the winged cat’s concern and comfort enrapturing him as her abundance of sentences often did. It was sweet of her to quip in debate to his story about drinking, denying what he had said out of care, and carrying on to state that everyone had their bad days. That warmed him. Howbeit a chatterbox, Ophelia was simply a joy to have a conversation with. The feline quick to react with minutes’ worth of dialogue in response to a mere statement, and the mutt shared a common opinion on subjects with her most times.
Most times.
The large head of Leroy had dipped in a nod of agreement while Ophelia mentioned black, white, and the many different stances one could be in the middle. It was a thought that got flung around his imagination, how it was up to him to choose a side rather than have someone else pick one for you. Still and all, he wished to remain in the exact middle, though his actions could disaffirm that. How could one claim their place as nonparticipating after maiming an unknown figure to the benefit of someone else? What about the original plans for domination he had when initially arriving at Tanglewood? One may change their ways, but past actions can, and will, evermore return to haunt you. At least for now he was safe from his deeds’ wrath.
More water entered his system before whatever liquid that remained in the dish consisted of a few droplets, and the refreshed hound dotingly exhaled. The clean drink inspirited the canine, further increasing the bliss he felt for Ophelia’s companionship at this moment. Then, she spoke, and his perked ears noticeably declined. As a friend, the most he could do was acquiesce with her declaration, stating that she wanted to be viewed as good, as well as act good herself.
"I think it mattas with whom ya ally yourself with, yeah?" Leroy rehashed, concerning what both he and Ophelia had touched upon amidst their observations. ”Like, who you’re loyal to. One kind thing ya do for someone coul’ be seen as bad to anotha party.” That wouldn’t cut it, his comment was a tad foggy. He’d shake his head, as if to tell himself no, you didn’t say it right. ”For example, I consider myself loyal t’ Tanglewood, an’ t’ my friends - especially you. Tha’s where my troubles’ is comin’ from.”
He’d sigh daintily once more, this was going to be tough. The canine parades that tough motif of his around the territory, so he was worried about how his next few words would affect Ophelia. Could she take him seriously, or would she not believe what nonsense she was hearing? Gazing gloomily towards the floor, he’d speak. ”I- I wan’ ta be in th’ middle, doin’ good stuff for Tanglewood, and bad stuff ta those fatheads goin’ ‘round messin’ up stuff like our docks. I think that I’m more bad than anythin’ else... an’ I need help.”. Finished, his eyes rose from the cool floor directly to her peepers, the amber hues speaking their own words: I need you. Out of everybody in the swamp, she was the person who understood him best, hence if there was one person who could aid him, it was her.
Was it too much to ask? Perhaps.
Did he desire assistance? Yes.
//i envy people on computer so much
Most times.
The large head of Leroy had dipped in a nod of agreement while Ophelia mentioned black, white, and the many different stances one could be in the middle. It was a thought that got flung around his imagination, how it was up to him to choose a side rather than have someone else pick one for you. Still and all, he wished to remain in the exact middle, though his actions could disaffirm that. How could one claim their place as nonparticipating after maiming an unknown figure to the benefit of someone else? What about the original plans for domination he had when initially arriving at Tanglewood? One may change their ways, but past actions can, and will, evermore return to haunt you. At least for now he was safe from his deeds’ wrath.
More water entered his system before whatever liquid that remained in the dish consisted of a few droplets, and the refreshed hound dotingly exhaled. The clean drink inspirited the canine, further increasing the bliss he felt for Ophelia’s companionship at this moment. Then, she spoke, and his perked ears noticeably declined. As a friend, the most he could do was acquiesce with her declaration, stating that she wanted to be viewed as good, as well as act good herself.
"I think it mattas with whom ya ally yourself with, yeah?" Leroy rehashed, concerning what both he and Ophelia had touched upon amidst their observations. ”Like, who you’re loyal to. One kind thing ya do for someone coul’ be seen as bad to anotha party.” That wouldn’t cut it, his comment was a tad foggy. He’d shake his head, as if to tell himself no, you didn’t say it right. ”For example, I consider myself loyal t’ Tanglewood, an’ t’ my friends - especially you. Tha’s where my troubles’ is comin’ from.”
He’d sigh daintily once more, this was going to be tough. The canine parades that tough motif of his around the territory, so he was worried about how his next few words would affect Ophelia. Could she take him seriously, or would she not believe what nonsense she was hearing? Gazing gloomily towards the floor, he’d speak. ”I- I wan’ ta be in th’ middle, doin’ good stuff for Tanglewood, and bad stuff ta those fatheads goin’ ‘round messin’ up stuff like our docks. I think that I’m more bad than anythin’ else... an’ I need help.”. Finished, his eyes rose from the cool floor directly to her peepers, the amber hues speaking their own words: I need you. Out of everybody in the swamp, she was the person who understood him best, hence if there was one person who could aid him, it was her.
Was it too much to ask? Perhaps.
Did he desire assistance? Yes.
//i envy people on computer so much