08-15-2020, 10:37 AM
HIGHER BEINGS, THESE WORDS ARE FOR YOU ALONE
ghostwhisper - mantis-awahondo hybrid - they/them
[div style="width: 100%; height: auto; text-align: justify; padding: 20px; font-size: 15px; color: #f2ffff;"]Charting lands was, in short, Ghostwhisper's main goal. To travel from place to place, marking down locations and pathways that were worn away by time or worn away by those that passed through. The desert presented a unique challenge with a lack of features that likely would stand the test of time. The dunes could change with a harsh breeze, any puddle of water could dry up, and the dead trees could tumble and fall and lack any bearing. It was a struggle to note what was worthwhile, and what could be covered with the brush of utensil across parchment.
Their wanderings brought them to another unfamiliar face. Ghostwhisper saw a lot of those. Wandering around tended to cause for such a thing. They tuck paper away into their cloak as their four legs bring them closer. Was that a mask the other wore, or a face? It was always hard to tell from where they hailed from, although this was not a mask or shell that Ghost had ever bore witness to before. Without words to use to greet the other, they perform a bow, shell dipping and arm crossing over chest. To wait for someone with a voice would likely be tedious so far in the outreaches of the 'territory'. The sand was ever blistering, ever annoying, building warmth beneath their cloak. It could be ignored, of course. The jungle's life was only beginning to return after the territory's torching, something Ghost had gathered after a while of trotting around. They produce a different paper from their cloak, scribbling, before trying to show it to the territory's latest newcomer.
'What can I help you with today?' They asked, claws curling against the dirt so that they would not lose balance, to wait if the other could read or if someone with a voice would truly be needed.
[div style="width: 100%; height: auto; text-align: justify; padding: 20px; font-size: 15px; color: #f2ffff;"]Charting lands was, in short, Ghostwhisper's main goal. To travel from place to place, marking down locations and pathways that were worn away by time or worn away by those that passed through. The desert presented a unique challenge with a lack of features that likely would stand the test of time. The dunes could change with a harsh breeze, any puddle of water could dry up, and the dead trees could tumble and fall and lack any bearing. It was a struggle to note what was worthwhile, and what could be covered with the brush of utensil across parchment.
Their wanderings brought them to another unfamiliar face. Ghostwhisper saw a lot of those. Wandering around tended to cause for such a thing. They tuck paper away into their cloak as their four legs bring them closer. Was that a mask the other wore, or a face? It was always hard to tell from where they hailed from, although this was not a mask or shell that Ghost had ever bore witness to before. Without words to use to greet the other, they perform a bow, shell dipping and arm crossing over chest. To wait for someone with a voice would likely be tedious so far in the outreaches of the 'territory'. The sand was ever blistering, ever annoying, building warmth beneath their cloak. It could be ignored, of course. The jungle's life was only beginning to return after the territory's torching, something Ghost had gathered after a while of trotting around. They produce a different paper from their cloak, scribbling, before trying to show it to the territory's latest newcomer.
'What can I help you with today?' They asked, claws curling against the dirt so that they would not lose balance, to wait if the other could read or if someone with a voice would truly be needed.
TAGS 7/22/20:
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FULZANIN is a 19 year old content creator. Currently roleplaying as Beezlebub in the Pitt and Jotunhel in the Typhoon. Time spent outside of work and writing is typically done in Creatures of Sonaria. FULZANIN is also in a happy relationship, and is aegosexual/asexual herself.
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