AESIOR OPHELES
✯ — got spirits in my head and they won't go
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Strange and twisted the voice, making a frantic beat in a heart that had felt little fear. Fuck, he was fucked. Or at least, that's what he kept himself from thinking. He didn't like that sound and with his ears pinned back, he would remain standing near his sticks. He just wanted to find out more about the others, not die in the process. He couldn't help that brush and bushes were between them. Taking a breath as he debated how quickly he'd have to move to avoid snapping jaws, his eyes narrowing as his tail flicked. Slowly he would make his way around the bush, thinking only to pick his sticks back up. He hadn't meant to startle the other but he'd come across him while doing his own chores.
Blinking at the hellhound, the fur on his shoulders lifted in reaction to the creepy tone, ears pointed back though remaining standing. Tail flicking slightly as he kept his gaze on the hellhound, finding himself wondering just what the hell he'd been hinming to try and follow after one of the two canines within the group. He already knew that his body was stiff, his gaze gravitating to the jaws on the hellhound, swallowing anxiously. The memories of his attacker were trying to force their way into his mind, and he didn't like it, he didn't want to be here. His claws were coming unsheathed as the memories won past his mental defense, breaths becoming faintly labored as he remembered the interaction in full. It had been much the same, started the same way between them - the kitsune who had attacked him standing the same distance as Damion from him now.
Blinking at the hellhound, the fur on his shoulders lifted in reaction to the creepy tone, ears pointed back though remaining standing. Tail flicking slightly as he kept his gaze on the hellhound, finding himself wondering just what the hell he'd been hinming to try and follow after one of the two canines within the group. He already knew that his body was stiff, his gaze gravitating to the jaws on the hellhound, swallowing anxiously. The memories of his attacker were trying to force their way into his mind, and he didn't like it, he didn't want to be here. His claws were coming unsheathed as the memories won past his mental defense, breaths becoming faintly labored as he remembered the interaction in full. It had been much the same, started the same way between them - the kitsune who had attacked him standing the same distance as Damion from him now.
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THE FLOWER BURNS