01-28-2020, 01:34 AM
There it was. The customary query that his ears had reluctantly become so acquainted with ever since his reemergence into tribal society. "What happened?" seemed to be the most common question, though every now and then he'd be hit with the "why are you back?". Each occurrence in which he faced the questions, the general typically scoffed, grunted something stupid such as "magic, that's how" in exasperated response, and then continued along his way. He acknowledges that it is only natural for one to feel curiosity when meeting someone who's supposed to be dead, but the past was in the past, and he wished to keep it that way. And besides - not a lot of people wanted to hear the truth. Aurum had already declared his distaste for the path that the canine surreptitiously walked. And if Aurum didn't want to hear it, nobody did.
Sam was a friend, though. Closer than most of the dipsticks that he passed by on a day-to-day basis. If she truly wished to hear what was what, then by all means, he'd oblige. Clearing his throat awkwardly, and restlessly shifting to and fro upon his haunches, the male readies himself to speak. "I'm..." he initiates, ere mollifying his voice due to a lack of obvious words. There did not exist an uncomplicated way to say the following words. Best to just say it quickly and get it over with. "I'm- I'm still dead," he stammers abruptly, "but, what I'm doin' right here - right now - is possessin'." His chocolate hues fall on the smaller quadruped's figure, grudgingly examining for traces of disapproval. Sam was hardcore, she wouldn't judge him too harshly for this, would she? "This fella that I'm controllin'... found him in The Big Apple. He's a younger siblin' actually. His name's Christian. Forcin' someone to be a personal vessel wasn't my original plan, but- but I couldn't leave ya. I couldn't leave Tanglewood."
He falls silent for a moment, glancing solemnly towards the table that fronted him. Without a moment's notice, though, his mood seems to alleviate, as signified by a sudden smirk. "I'll tell ya what though," he says, humour clawing away at the bottom of his throat whilst he spoke, "Imma disagree with what ya said about me lookin' pretty - nah, I'm fuckin' sexy as FUCK. I mean, look at me, I'm a beaut! I got muscles that'll leave ya rattled for days 'n everythin' of that sort."
Regardless of her stance on his appearance, Sam simply had to agree with him on this one.
Sam was a friend, though. Closer than most of the dipsticks that he passed by on a day-to-day basis. If she truly wished to hear what was what, then by all means, he'd oblige. Clearing his throat awkwardly, and restlessly shifting to and fro upon his haunches, the male readies himself to speak. "I'm..." he initiates, ere mollifying his voice due to a lack of obvious words. There did not exist an uncomplicated way to say the following words. Best to just say it quickly and get it over with. "I'm- I'm still dead," he stammers abruptly, "but, what I'm doin' right here - right now - is possessin'." His chocolate hues fall on the smaller quadruped's figure, grudgingly examining for traces of disapproval. Sam was hardcore, she wouldn't judge him too harshly for this, would she? "This fella that I'm controllin'... found him in The Big Apple. He's a younger siblin' actually. His name's Christian. Forcin' someone to be a personal vessel wasn't my original plan, but- but I couldn't leave ya. I couldn't leave Tanglewood."
He falls silent for a moment, glancing solemnly towards the table that fronted him. Without a moment's notice, though, his mood seems to alleviate, as signified by a sudden smirk. "I'll tell ya what though," he says, humour clawing away at the bottom of his throat whilst he spoke, "Imma disagree with what ya said about me lookin' pretty - nah, I'm fuckin' sexy as FUCK. I mean, look at me, I'm a beaut! I got muscles that'll leave ya rattled for days 'n everythin' of that sort."
Regardless of her stance on his appearance, Sam simply had to agree with him on this one.