01-23-2020, 08:34 PM
The pain that pulsated about his skull wasn't of urgent nature, but damn, did it cause the male a good discomfort. At first, his visage contorted itself into a grotesque wince, before his brain kicked in his body's natural reaction to pain - cussing. Fair was the number of curses and swear words that he indignantly muttered in the wake of the impact, which would persist for quite a while actually. Only upon the entry of another individual did he strenuously stifle his maw, and even then, it was a move done in total reluctance. An inhale aquiver, and a subsequent unsettled exhale, he reclines his shoulders from the tense hold they were in and allows himself to relax. Whomever inserted themselves into the tavern, the canine could not say for certain. He'd solely heard the stranger's footfalls faintly thudding against the ground yonder, and had yet to identify them by appearance. With that being the case, his eyes scan the surrounding area, not ceasing in their search until ultimately falling on another individual.
"Oh, it's you, Roy. Hello there."
Aurum's adopted, flame-wielding, skeleton-patterned son. Not someone that Leroy interacted with a whole bunch, less not at all. From what he knew of him, though, the kid didn't seem to indulge himself in the same gratuitous chaos that the rest of the tribe did. Rather, the tiger preferred enterprises of the peaceful variety. That was all he made of the boy.
"Well," he starts, fixing to answer the young feline's query, "I ain't dead. So that's good." By then, the aching had completely subsided. Gone. Eliminated. At the same time, however, the motivation to continue in his pursuit of cleaning up had discontinued, out of fear of a similar event occurring again. "I hate puttin' stuff away," the mongrel blurts, "especially holiday stuff. Especially holiday stuff this late. Kinda leaves me feelin' a little blue."
"Errr- did ya have a good holiday, Roy?"
"Oh, it's you, Roy. Hello there."
Aurum's adopted, flame-wielding, skeleton-patterned son. Not someone that Leroy interacted with a whole bunch, less not at all. From what he knew of him, though, the kid didn't seem to indulge himself in the same gratuitous chaos that the rest of the tribe did. Rather, the tiger preferred enterprises of the peaceful variety. That was all he made of the boy.
"Well," he starts, fixing to answer the young feline's query, "I ain't dead. So that's good." By then, the aching had completely subsided. Gone. Eliminated. At the same time, however, the motivation to continue in his pursuit of cleaning up had discontinued, out of fear of a similar event occurring again. "I hate puttin' stuff away," the mongrel blurts, "especially holiday stuff. Especially holiday stuff this late. Kinda leaves me feelin' a little blue."
"Errr- did ya have a good holiday, Roy?"