02-01-2021, 12:42 AM
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Well of course it was aliens. What the hell else would spawn a portal to suck them into some alternate dimension seemingly on a whim? Unless maybe it was some sort of time anomaly or a type of glitch in the matrix of reality (though these also are usually linked to extraterrestrials). No matter what angle he looks at it, surely it was the work of something not of this world. Some folks believe in gods or magic, Mulder believes in aliens, and he's certainly giddy with excitement at what sort of strange things they may find in this new reality.
The slight creature holds tight to his husband's fur, occasionally having to shake his snout free of the hound's pale mane flowing in the wind. Despite all of his fantastical pondering, clear practical analysis is filtering through the fox's mind as he tries to understand the environment around them and the most obvious comes out from Barghest's maw first. With his usual sarcasm, the vulpine chuckles. [b]"Nostalgic. Kind of homely even! I'm totally enthused about shriveling up out here. Maybe I'll be a lizard's toothpick in a month or two." He licks his parched lips, wishing their transporters had given some sort of warning so they could prepare for this new journey. Very rude for an advanced civilization and inside he's bummed out to have lost his equipment and books. Still, he's grateful to have not been separated from his husband and if he were dedicated to any deities, he'd be thanking them now.
The fox perks his nose up to old scent markers in the area they coast into and hops from his mate's back on landing with a stretch of his stiff limbs. Mulder sinks down slightly into the shifting sands and he has to tug his stubby legs upward to break the pull until his paws find shallower ground. He's a small and thin mutt of a vulpine with a vivid gaze but an autumnally colored body. Brown points on an orange canvas, a dark cape of fur along his shoulders with a creamy underside, ears, and tail end, along with a hazelnut striped scarf make him look quaint compared to his husband. All except for his pink-purple jewel-like irises taking in the view but seem to be losing that initial excitement about ETs. "Not much of a stop..." Still, a mystery is a mystery and that's his favorite genre.
Knowing well that the eldest canine must be aching from the long trip due to his gestures, he nudges his arm with his nose and smirks warmly. "But you did super keeping us from plummeting to, ya know, certain death, old man, so who am I to complain huh?" On talk of aliens, Mulder closes one eye then at the soft touch and huffs through is red velvet nose. At the very least, Barghest humors his fancies. "Ha-ha. If they are, there's not many places to hide out here." Unless, of course, cloaking technology... "Definitely smells like somebody was out here previously. I don't think we've ever met any desert clans that didn't have a taste for blood-" (including their own former home) "-so we should watch out. If they're still around that is." Should this be or had been a clan in their paradigm's sense, space born or no.
As his squinting eyes scan the sunbaked horizon, Mulder's a little disappointed not to find anything outlandish to his senses lurking in this desert. Looks relatively normal, albeit hostile. Murders, savages, thieves; he's got experience with those. Easy peasy. Still there's time to turn back if they'd want to, but where else is there to go really. Feeling emboldened by his mate's tail around him, he raises his paws to his muzzle and does the only "logical" thing to do out in this situation. He belts out (surprisingly large lungs for a vulpine no bigger than a grey fox), "Hey, anybody skulking around out there?!" It's not like they have any element of surprise in this wasteland anyway, might as well make some new friends. Or to see if there's any stragglers out to kill for supplies (damn, he'd thought he'd gone out of those kinds of thoughts by now).
Preemptively, he pulls his crystal dagger from his scarf with telekinesis and gives it a good whipping around above the sands to see if anything has changed. Like Barghest's silent observation, he too feels somewhat stronger, but it's probably trivial for someone so tiny. But who is he to complain on a net positive. "I'll chuck this knife and my husband at you if you try anything funny, I swear!" Not that he has good aim but no one else needs to know that or maybe they'd be more concerned about a madman yelling in the desert. After some stretching moments of silence, Mulder shrugs and looks up at Barghest for some sort of direction to this situation.
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how could you be what i want to see?・°☆Well of course it was aliens. What the hell else would spawn a portal to suck them into some alternate dimension seemingly on a whim? Unless maybe it was some sort of time anomaly or a type of glitch in the matrix of reality (though these also are usually linked to extraterrestrials). No matter what angle he looks at it, surely it was the work of something not of this world. Some folks believe in gods or magic, Mulder believes in aliens, and he's certainly giddy with excitement at what sort of strange things they may find in this new reality.
The slight creature holds tight to his husband's fur, occasionally having to shake his snout free of the hound's pale mane flowing in the wind. Despite all of his fantastical pondering, clear practical analysis is filtering through the fox's mind as he tries to understand the environment around them and the most obvious comes out from Barghest's maw first. With his usual sarcasm, the vulpine chuckles. [b]"Nostalgic. Kind of homely even! I'm totally enthused about shriveling up out here. Maybe I'll be a lizard's toothpick in a month or two." He licks his parched lips, wishing their transporters had given some sort of warning so they could prepare for this new journey. Very rude for an advanced civilization and inside he's bummed out to have lost his equipment and books. Still, he's grateful to have not been separated from his husband and if he were dedicated to any deities, he'd be thanking them now.
The fox perks his nose up to old scent markers in the area they coast into and hops from his mate's back on landing with a stretch of his stiff limbs. Mulder sinks down slightly into the shifting sands and he has to tug his stubby legs upward to break the pull until his paws find shallower ground. He's a small and thin mutt of a vulpine with a vivid gaze but an autumnally colored body. Brown points on an orange canvas, a dark cape of fur along his shoulders with a creamy underside, ears, and tail end, along with a hazelnut striped scarf make him look quaint compared to his husband. All except for his pink-purple jewel-like irises taking in the view but seem to be losing that initial excitement about ETs. "Not much of a stop..." Still, a mystery is a mystery and that's his favorite genre.
Knowing well that the eldest canine must be aching from the long trip due to his gestures, he nudges his arm with his nose and smirks warmly. "But you did super keeping us from plummeting to, ya know, certain death, old man, so who am I to complain huh?" On talk of aliens, Mulder closes one eye then at the soft touch and huffs through is red velvet nose. At the very least, Barghest humors his fancies. "Ha-ha. If they are, there's not many places to hide out here." Unless, of course, cloaking technology... "Definitely smells like somebody was out here previously. I don't think we've ever met any desert clans that didn't have a taste for blood-" (including their own former home) "-so we should watch out. If they're still around that is." Should this be or had been a clan in their paradigm's sense, space born or no.
As his squinting eyes scan the sunbaked horizon, Mulder's a little disappointed not to find anything outlandish to his senses lurking in this desert. Looks relatively normal, albeit hostile. Murders, savages, thieves; he's got experience with those. Easy peasy. Still there's time to turn back if they'd want to, but where else is there to go really. Feeling emboldened by his mate's tail around him, he raises his paws to his muzzle and does the only "logical" thing to do out in this situation. He belts out (surprisingly large lungs for a vulpine no bigger than a grey fox), "Hey, anybody skulking around out there?!" It's not like they have any element of surprise in this wasteland anyway, might as well make some new friends. Or to see if there's any stragglers out to kill for supplies (damn, he'd thought he'd gone out of those kinds of thoughts by now).
Preemptively, he pulls his crystal dagger from his scarf with telekinesis and gives it a good whipping around above the sands to see if anything has changed. Like Barghest's silent observation, he too feels somewhat stronger, but it's probably trivial for someone so tiny. But who is he to complain on a net positive. "I'll chuck this knife and my husband at you if you try anything funny, I swear!" Not that he has good aim but no one else needs to know that or maybe they'd be more concerned about a madman yelling in the desert. After some stretching moments of silence, Mulder shrugs and looks up at Barghest for some sort of direction to this situation.
[div style="margin:auto; text-align:center; height:80px; line-height:80%; overflow:hidden; font-size:17pt;"]We're so full of ── ✭
( sugar honey ice & tea )
[Size=8pt]mulder reaver ☾ fox ☾ the pitt ☾ 2+ yrs
( sugar honey ice & tea )
[Size=8pt]mulder reaver ☾ fox ☾ the pitt ☾ 2+ yrs