10-09-2019, 05:22 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Of course the first one to approach him is like this. Bigger than him, but that doesn't mean shit to him. He's taken on bigger and won, though that was when his head wasn't swimming from withdrawal and he had enough space to actually do shit. This guy's probably a little more experienced fighting in this sort of territory, so he forces himself to calm down and not fuck it all up even more by picking a fight. The dog's face twists into strange shapes of irritation and displeasure, curling lips and narrowing eyes. "Oh fuck off," he snorts, though there's no real bite to his words now that there's somebody in front of him. That means there's hope for civilization and maybe a break from this fucking mud. Unless they live in the mud, which is fucking gross. Witch wouldn't even be here anyway, unless he was really trying to throw Red off. The guy was always so fucking...pristine.
Anyway. Back to the task at hand — or paw.
"Cool it, I'm not actually gonna burn shit. It look like I've got a box of fucking matches on me?" He lifts his paws and flutters his wings as if to prove it, a faint snrk of laughter rough in his throat. And he knows that some people around these parts could destroy the world with a snap of their fingers — look at Witch, for fuck's sake — he's not one of them. The magic hunter, with magic of his own. Ha! "Your territory's just fuckin' frustrating. Why the fuck would anyone decide to live here?" On a better (or worse?) day, Red might have just continued with the anger. Picked a fight with the lion because he could and had nothing better to do to sate that itching in his veins. But today he's just tired and worn out and missing a certain stupid mage. And his headache was getting worse, which in itself spells 'a fucking disaster' in Morse Code against his skull.
"Call me Red. I'm looking for a place away from all this mud and also for an asshole winged dog like me, but bigger and kinda like a block of ice. Seen anyone like that?"
Anyway. Back to the task at hand — or paw.
"Cool it, I'm not actually gonna burn shit. It look like I've got a box of fucking matches on me?" He lifts his paws and flutters his wings as if to prove it, a faint snrk of laughter rough in his throat. And he knows that some people around these parts could destroy the world with a snap of their fingers — look at Witch, for fuck's sake — he's not one of them. The magic hunter, with magic of his own. Ha! "Your territory's just fuckin' frustrating. Why the fuck would anyone decide to live here?" On a better (or worse?) day, Red might have just continued with the anger. Picked a fight with the lion because he could and had nothing better to do to sate that itching in his veins. But today he's just tired and worn out and missing a certain stupid mage. And his headache was getting worse, which in itself spells 'a fucking disaster' in Morse Code against his skull.
"Call me Red. I'm looking for a place away from all this mud and also for an asshole winged dog like me, but bigger and kinda like a block of ice. Seen anyone like that?"