09-30-2018, 12:02 PM
[size=10pt]A gangly dog comes stumbling down the shoreline. As it dashes clumsily through the sand, it screams and snarls and violently shakes its head as if trying to throw something off. It spews bloody spit and lets out an awful, most antagonized howl, though despite the temper tantrum nothing appears to be physically wrong with it. Ignoring how it foams at the mouth and appears to spit blood, the gangly dog isn't in bad condition.
Its bad attitude seems to come from the pigeon atop his head, which strangely has yet to fly away in fear. In fact, the bird is taunting the rabid dog, going so far as to hop onto the very tip of the dog's nose and shake its fat little but right in its face.
"Onward, noble steed!" the pigeon cries, pointing east. The dog veers to the right and races through the sand, tongue lolling and spit flying behind it. The pigeon cackles triumphantly.
Jaws admits that the quaint little coastal town his noble steed carries him to is... less than impressive. He may be desensitized to such things now. Cute little shops with a clear view of the ocean are nice and all, but he prefers the bold silhouette of skyscrapers in the distance, car horns blaring, and harsh, bright lights right in his face. It's just what he's used to. Where is the town square? Where are the people to feed him their popcorn and street-vendor hot dogs? It's too... organic.
His noble steed, otherwise known as Cuddles, is indifferent. It's preoccupied with sticking its nose in every nook and cranny it can see in search of... something. Jaws isn't quite sure. He'll leave it to do as it pleases so long as it doesn't go around starting trouble with the locals. The last time he had been caught running wild with his drooling dog-companion, he'd spent quite some time hassling with animal control.
"Stay close, Cuddles," he commands the drooling dog, who does not bother to so much as look his way. "Beware of stranger danger."
Its bad attitude seems to come from the pigeon atop his head, which strangely has yet to fly away in fear. In fact, the bird is taunting the rabid dog, going so far as to hop onto the very tip of the dog's nose and shake its fat little but right in its face.
"Onward, noble steed!" the pigeon cries, pointing east. The dog veers to the right and races through the sand, tongue lolling and spit flying behind it. The pigeon cackles triumphantly.
Jaws admits that the quaint little coastal town his noble steed carries him to is... less than impressive. He may be desensitized to such things now. Cute little shops with a clear view of the ocean are nice and all, but he prefers the bold silhouette of skyscrapers in the distance, car horns blaring, and harsh, bright lights right in his face. It's just what he's used to. Where is the town square? Where are the people to feed him their popcorn and street-vendor hot dogs? It's too... organic.
His noble steed, otherwise known as Cuddles, is indifferent. It's preoccupied with sticking its nose in every nook and cranny it can see in search of... something. Jaws isn't quite sure. He'll leave it to do as it pleases so long as it doesn't go around starting trouble with the locals. The last time he had been caught running wild with his drooling dog-companion, he'd spent quite some time hassling with animal control.
"Stay close, Cuddles," he commands the drooling dog, who does not bother to so much as look his way. "Beware of stranger danger."
[align=center]characters + 16 + he/him