01-09-2020, 01:21 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]Faces approach. He does not go tense, though the instinctive urge lingers.
They're friendly - all the better reason to remain calm, even though his thoughts are getting fuzzy and disjointed at the edges. Unfamiliarity is something he is so used to, but still manages to jolt him every time. He focuses on the present, on things he knows: the touch of mulchy soil underfoot. The sound of the beating ocean tide. Syllabic noises escaping throats in languages he cannot comprehend but still deduces a hello from all.
Fear-scent, under it all. It's almost too faint to catch. He stares one-eyed at the ocelot for a few, careful moments. For a second, he looks feral - massive, lumbering body squared at the shoulders, eye as analytical as it is distant and unseeing, claws steadying himself against the earth. Part of him is still a wild animal. Part of him can kill. But he brings himself back, just like the bobbing sailboats in the background are tethered back to the docks at the end of the day. He finds home base. His mind seeks peace and holds it close.
Ocelots always had an odd stink about them.
"Hi." He's got a deep growl for a voice, rough and raspy on the edges. Breathes a little hard, lets the excess carry his words where they're centered low in his chest. "You all live here, right? I'd like to join you, too." He barely knows the name of the place - he remembers hearing a few names for the groups that divided the continent, and whichever one this is, he'll find out eventually - but doesn't mind the mystery. Ahab crooks his expression into a smile, scars on his face stretching to accommodate the brief flash of teeth. (It's almost endearing. The effort, at least, is sweeter than the toothy, fang-bearing outcome.) The grizzly hesitates on his words, then adds carefully, "...If that's alright."
They're friendly - all the better reason to remain calm, even though his thoughts are getting fuzzy and disjointed at the edges. Unfamiliarity is something he is so used to, but still manages to jolt him every time. He focuses on the present, on things he knows: the touch of mulchy soil underfoot. The sound of the beating ocean tide. Syllabic noises escaping throats in languages he cannot comprehend but still deduces a hello from all.
Fear-scent, under it all. It's almost too faint to catch. He stares one-eyed at the ocelot for a few, careful moments. For a second, he looks feral - massive, lumbering body squared at the shoulders, eye as analytical as it is distant and unseeing, claws steadying himself against the earth. Part of him is still a wild animal. Part of him can kill. But he brings himself back, just like the bobbing sailboats in the background are tethered back to the docks at the end of the day. He finds home base. His mind seeks peace and holds it close.
Ocelots always had an odd stink about them.
"Hi." He's got a deep growl for a voice, rough and raspy on the edges. Breathes a little hard, lets the excess carry his words where they're centered low in his chest. "You all live here, right? I'd like to join you, too." He barely knows the name of the place - he remembers hearing a few names for the groups that divided the continent, and whichever one this is, he'll find out eventually - but doesn't mind the mystery. Ahab crooks his expression into a smile, scars on his face stretching to accommodate the brief flash of teeth. (It's almost endearing. The effort, at least, is sweeter than the toothy, fang-bearing outcome.) The grizzly hesitates on his words, then adds carefully, "...If that's alright."
[align=center][div style="text-align:right;width:59%;font-family:verdana;"][font=verdana][size=11pt][color=transparent][url=https://beastsofbeyond.com/index.php?topic=13462.0][color=black][b][i]LET HIM WHO THINKS HE KNOWS NO FEAR
LOOK WELL UPON MY FACE
LOOK WELL UPON MY FACE