08-27-2019, 11:54 PM
For Feza's sake, Leroy's enfeebled condition was nothing short of a blessing. The male's eyes were on their last legs, and by this point, utterly refused to register vivid colours. Marginally impaired by the stroke that rocked his system back when the leaves were only beginning to grow, the male's eyesight deteriorated at a heightened pace over time. His eyes were always fucked - even before the stroke, they couldn't identify screens - but now, recognizing the outline of an object was somewhat a challenge to manage. Hues, tints, and shades were much dimmer than they were in days of yore, and with each waking morning, the universe felt much more black and white. Currently, only a meager amount of time sat between now and a world that looked like it belonged to a noir flick. It wrenched his heart, having to watch all colour languidly squander from nature. Painful for him, but great news for Feza.
Her eloquent pelt, radiant in hue and intensity. A rather easy target for mocking remarks. And when it came to mocking remarks, Leroy saw himself as king. Crow was a pansy. Beck was a spookshit. Wormwood was... well, Wormwood was Wormwood. Had his vision not been as faulty as it was, then it was safe to assume that the snow panther would only become yet another victim to the canine's tormenting. Other Tanglers regarded her coat as a spectacle to one's eyes, but to Leroy's, the femme possessed no outlandish quantities whatsoever. The colours were an eccentric palette, that he could agree on, though Feza's fur strayed far from eyesore territory.
Threadbare tinsel lay scattered across the ground, amidst disheveled heaps of other hatmaking supplies. A peppy feline, whose heavy facial features sang a song of drowsiness. The mongrel came across the scene unintentionally.
"What've you been gettin' up to in here?" he asks. Having not interacted with her before, he possessed no idea on where to go from there. Did she usually act in such a reckless manner?
Her eloquent pelt, radiant in hue and intensity. A rather easy target for mocking remarks. And when it came to mocking remarks, Leroy saw himself as king. Crow was a pansy. Beck was a spookshit. Wormwood was... well, Wormwood was Wormwood. Had his vision not been as faulty as it was, then it was safe to assume that the snow panther would only become yet another victim to the canine's tormenting. Other Tanglers regarded her coat as a spectacle to one's eyes, but to Leroy's, the femme possessed no outlandish quantities whatsoever. The colours were an eccentric palette, that he could agree on, though Feza's fur strayed far from eyesore territory.
Threadbare tinsel lay scattered across the ground, amidst disheveled heaps of other hatmaking supplies. A peppy feline, whose heavy facial features sang a song of drowsiness. The mongrel came across the scene unintentionally.
"What've you been gettin' up to in here?" he asks. Having not interacted with her before, he possessed no idea on where to go from there. Did she usually act in such a reckless manner?