breath in, breath out | private, leroy

[ophelia.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 65%; line-height:120%; text-align: justify;font-family: verdana;"]Getting settled into her new home was going well, but she supposed that was mainly because she found it easy to adjust to most situations in her life. Settling in, generally, was the biggest change, the main reason she was at least a little impressed with herself. She was handling this new concept well. Ophelia wasn't a cat that tended to stay in one place for long; she was sure that the cause of that was more situational than ingrained in her personality, though, which was probably why this was going as well as it was.

At the moment, she was settled down in the library, mainly just to grasp a moment of quiet. While she was happy to be surrounded by other creatures now, she wasn't used to it. Her life consisted of almost constant solitude up until this point, so it was easy to understand why she was happy to take a moment to separate from most of the noise and make the library her respite.

Wings tucked carefully against her sides, she lay near the shelves with her eyes closed, just enjoying the atmosphere around her. While the swamp couldn't truly be considered pleasant by most definitions of the word, she was growing at least comfortable with it. This new home didn't feel safe, not entirely, but that was actually... oddly nice. She would probably grow bored of living somewhere with no potential threats or worries. She was a competitive, self-absorbed brawler and hunter just as much as she was a lover of quiet and a klutz with words.

Letting out a soft yawn, she stretched her front legs and shifted her head to lay more comfortably against them, finally opening her eyes to scan the room instead of remaining entirely closed off from the world.

[toboggan]

If Ophelia wasn’t used to lodging in a set location for long, then consider Leroy the polar opposite. The mongrel’s actions, along with his personality, gave him a fast pass through the line of society, planting him in front of the line for a ride called total control. On that very ride, lasting for about the majority of his life, he had gotten what he wanted when he wanted. Nobody liked him, but they couldn’t say that, as he had eyes and ears everywhere. Eventually, someone came along and believed Leroy’s turn was long over, remarkably so that the stranger completely demolished the ride, and almost the rider with it. That could of been the end of the mutt right then and there, he sure thought it was, yet the interloper who ended Leroy’s revelry was merciful, and merely cast him away from all he had known.

That’s how his sorry ass ended up here in Tanglewood, alongside the alligators and numerous other lifeless saps who called this place home. In all honesty, the living conditions here defied the wolfhound’s expectations. Once you got past the gut-wrenching stench added to the fear of stepping on a deadly trap, living in a swamp was fine. Of course, while living like a king, he had never foresaw himself existing in a worn down house, which was definitely a fixer-upper, as a part of a clan. Merely bunking in Tanglewood for about a week was enough to shift his goals in life from having power over all else to just comfortably living life.

It was at this moment he made the choice to visit the library. There were parts of the territory still left unexplored by him, including this building in the middle of town. Barring that, there was the crater, the shore, the farm; damn, he did need to explore his new turf a bit more.

Why the library instead of anywhere else? Though a place with books appeared to be boring compared to an impact crater, he was told that the lower floor of the library also served as a hangout area as well. And that’s all he wanted to do now. He wanted to hang. Out.

A few strides past the entrance of the building and Leroy was quick to spot a sleeping feline, one with wings perched on her shoulders no less. He wasn’t the noblest of sorts, but he understood how important rest was to some people. A klutz himself, he used his better judgement to see that it would be most appropriate if he left immediately - after accidentally forcing his paw into the leg of a wooden chair, causing the furniture to loudly convulse, though the chair’s racket was nowhere near the level of his groans, followed by some pain-fuelled naughty words.

[ophelia.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 65%; line-height:120%; text-align: justify;font-family: verdana;"]The sound of crashing made Ophelia's eyes open fully, head quickly turning in the direction of the sound. Oh, dear. Standing up, she gave her wings a small flap to quickly get herself down from where she had been laying and righted on the floor before padding in the poor soul's direction. He seemed pained, if his curses and groans were anything to go by, and she offered a small grimace of pity. Oof. Stumbling and crashing around was never fun, though her experience with it had more to do with learning to fly than general clumsiness.

"Are you alright?" she asked, tilting her head and holding out one of her broad wings to attempt to brush his side in a small show of comfort. "That didn't look like much fun. I can see why you'd be offering the chair such strong words for its actions against you."

Small jokes made things better for most creatures, right? She hoped so. It seemed to be a common trend to joke after someone had done something unpleasant here, so she was merely following by example and hoping for the best.

[toboggan]

If he happened to not be squirming in discomfort, perhaps he would’ve paid attention to the audible flap of wings, for when the feline’s face had come into view, the foul canine jumped once more, though not as severely this time around. Though a force to be reckoned with being disturbed while inflamed, a new sensation trickled throughout his frame as the she softly chafed his side: solace. Her action was in the means of comforting him during his little outbreak. It made him strangely warm, so much so he nearly disliked the feeling. Here he was, what used to be an undesirable individual known for lacking emotion, being consoled after hurting his paw. If his past self could be here, he’d tear his present self a new esophagus.

"T-thanks". He was definitely acting out of sorts. Never had he ever thanked someone for tending to his “wounds”; usually, he wouldn’t notify anyone if he had gotten hurt in any way. He was tough, there was no room for assistance. Tail hanging low, he’d sigh, following it with an apology. ”Sorry fo’ wakin’ ya”, he’d groan, ”I shouldn’ta come here.”.

He hadn’t seen her face around before, a reason why he had to do something, and fast. If he remained submissive, that’s all she’d see him as, instead of the hard-nosed brute that he consciously was. 

[ophelia.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 65%; line-height:120%; text-align: justify;font-family: verdana;"]At the apology, she just tilted her head a bit, holding back the urge to scoff. It would seem too stand-offish if she did, and she definitely didn't want to come off that way. It was just... funny, for him to apologize for waking her when she was foolish enough to try to rest in public. "There's no need to apologize. This is a public space, and it is more my fault than yours for taking a nap here, but... Thank you, anyway. It's not often that someone has the manners to give an apology for disturbing another. At least, not in my experience with others." she said, lifting her head up.

Her gaze swept over him, accessing to make sure he wasn't actually in too much pain. Seemingly satisfied that he was actually alright, she drew her wing back to her body, tucking it away at her side. Still, she stayed as close as she had been to him, mainly just to not form some sort of awkwardness by stepping away too quickly.

"I should be the one apologizing to you, I think. Pain isn't the most fun of feelings to be had. So I am sorry that you stubbed your paw, especially if it was on my account. If I were one of those fantastical beasts with the power to control water, I'd magic you up some ice for it now, but, unfortunately, I am but a cat with wings." she said, a small smirk playing across her features. "If you would like someone to fan you, though, I'm fairly certain I could provide that."

[toboggan]

"You sure like ta’ talk, dont’cha?" he’d inquire, tone striking as callous, though the comment was merely an astute statement.

So much was spoken in the past minute or so that he found it quite difficult to comprehend what was said. Initially, she solemnly addressed how he shouldn’t be the one to apologize, and that, in fact, she should have said sorry herself. Well, it was true that she shouldn’t have drifted off in a public space, it was his fault for making noise in a library. Next, almost devoid of emotion, it seemed, the winged feline expressed how remorseful she was about not having healing powers of any capacity, before offering to fan his “wound” with her wings. It was inelegant enough that they were practically touching each other right now, such he did not need a total stranger to wildly flap her body parts in an effort to aid him.

”Ya don’t need to do anything to me” Leroy would coquet, his usual devilish self replenishing to what it was before. ”Since we’re already so close t’getha’, d’ya mind tellin’ me your name, honey?”