arcade fire ( bonfire

[selby roux !]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby had just turned one year old. He was now (in the eyes of most) an adult. A bonafide grownup. What better way to celebrate adulthood than to set fire to a big pile of wood?

The wood gathering itself was difficult. Most pieces of dead tree were either too damp or too rotten to use, and what Selby had expected to take a couple of hours ended up taking all day. His body was sore from sorting through it all. The wood was placed in a neat pile in a well populated area.

Getting matches had not been difficult. He already kept some in his home for his craft. Getting the fire, however, was hard.

He struck the match and watched the fire for a moment before realizing that it was spreading down the match quicker than he anticipated. He hastily dropped it onto the wood, and it caught.

Relieved, he called out, ”Bonfire!”

[AMUNET]

— Fire was nothing new.

But this place, was. Ament remebers traveling with his pack, exploring new places with his siblings in the forfront. THe omega had been content, been inquisitive then. He rather enjoyed seeing new things, exploring more places. Finding the similarities, the differences.

Every place they stumbled to did not have a big pack- but every big pack did have a different setting. They all behaved differently upon seeing the group, even with the same underline fear. Ament was even feared in the pitt, behind chains and cages, they couldn't quite turn their eyes to his, never stood too close.

(Ament snarled behind the cages, flashed his teeth at anything that dare step too close.

He felt his own amusement at even those who sneered at him, taunted him step away at his challenging display.

smelled the fear wafting off of them, the fear they refused to show)

Ament kept the chains, when he left. A reminder, a souvenir beside all the scars he got from fighting-killing.

he was not only a creature of wraith, but something to fear.

It has been some time since he had been accepted here, and no one had put him behind a cage, no one pulled the collar off yet either- but he was left to his own devices, he made a small nest, suitable for himself. He cleaned his own feathers, enough to get the dust-dirt-blood off of him - the smell.

He was meant to be hunting, finding something to feast on while trying to keep away from the areas where most of the big-pack frequented. Ament wasn't ready to face them with the imprints of static still between his eyes. Wasn't completely sure he was even free, with it still there.

But fire was something fimiluar. Ament would come towards it, remembering the odd looks from his own big-pack as he came alone- without his siblings, to interact.

Once he was known as being the social one of his own pack. despite the language barrier, ament had always wanted to understand them.

He could ignore the hunger for now.

WHen ament appeared, it was only with the small cat before the fire. Smoke sputtering and fire just starting to catch. Ament felt a rumble of pride at the information that flickered on in his head. needs more air, more fluff. He looked towards the cat- the stranger. Stilled, and felt something settle in his mind before he acted.

A low chirp in greeting.

© LEXASPERATED

[Luciferr]

A Z R A Y E L

he didn’t feel warmth but he could appreciate the glow and the atmosphere - and yes this trope is proven, Death does run a little chill (merely a slight chill unless one is nestled in the fluff that congragetes around his neck and shoulders, that retains heat quite well - but this chill is one that plummets when Death is provoked past a tranquil mood, a rare occurrence, but it does happen)

As it is the pale one merely settles himself down, curling slightly into himself like an over large version of a ‘cat loaf’ position - but he chooses to settle near enough to his small brother, should his fellow feathered family choose to approach him (he will not force it - he is one that lets others come to him where his father would instead choose to talk and such - Azrayel has the patience to wait for eternities if need be)

Much like his brothers greeting, the dragon offers a nod and a brief exchange of names since he knows he has not met Selby Roux in the flesh ”Azrayel - a pleasure”

© MADI

[toboggan]

Though winter scarcely died, its toll yet had an effect on him today. Intermittent shivers would ever-so-often quake the entirety of his decrepit figure, regardless of how cold the temperature truly was. Ofttimes, his nose ran until it couldn’t run no more, and every time refused to mitigate, no matter the number of vigorous sniffles the mutt forced his snout to perform.

Stupendous amounts of water never soothed the frog living in his throat.

Perhaps, worst of all, though were the sneezes. Sometimes they’d come, and leave a temporary sense of relief and satisfaction; however, from time to time, right before the sneeze could leave his system, they’d just quit. Gone. Nowhere to be seen. It was as if his body was intentionally tormenting the poor guy. For years,  Leroy pondered on what may be the worst pain imaginable - the guardsman never once thought that he’d experience it firsthand. There  no pain in this world more intolerable than having the perfect sneeze get away. This was fact.

The muffled cry of ”bonfire!” nigh-instantaneously ushered a warmth throughout his veins. The last patented Tanglewood bonfire must have transpired more than a couple of months back, when Morgan’s fluffy command was still in place, when greater than five Tanglers existed, when Leroy’s romantic life was still active. The single word contained enough nostalgia to throw his body off course, allowing the hound to actually escape the confines of his home and socialize, rather than sleep - what could he say, he practically lived for bonfires.

Upon entry, his amber gaze identified an unknown figure, along with the great dusky dragon from before. And he knew of Selby’s existence, but never really got to knowing him.

"Lovely thing you got goin’" he’d state, his body coming to a seated position.

To be completely honest, the guardsman got used to being the biggest man around - the sheer size of the overgrown lizard was putting him on edge.

”What brings you both to the swamp? Don’t know how long ya both’ve been here - don’t try to keep track, neither.”

Eugh. There was just something about that guy. Déjà vu, maybe? He didn’t know. Of course, Azrayel was present during the raid a while ago, but even then, Leroy could have sworn he’d seen someone just like him before. Odd.

[Crow Roux]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4;"]
Crow came out of obligation to spend time with Selby. Should it have been anyone else that hosted, he would have chosen to stay away and wallow in his lonesome in the warm candlelight of his home, or scouting the forest for the tallest pine to see how far away from the ground he could climb before the branches beneath his paws gave out. The adrenaline from the risk of falling was a better feeling than feeling nothing, anyway.

He approached and took a look around, offered everyone a half-assed smile and reached out a paw to punch Leroy in the elbow, then made his way straight to Selby. "Hi."

[selby roux !]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby hummed out a greeting to Ament and Azrayel, but didn’t turn towards them. He prodded the base of the fire gently with a metal rod, trying to get it to spread to other pieces. He set it down after a moment, deciding that it was better to let it grow naturally.

”Thanks, Leroy, but anyone could have done it,” he said, embarrassed by the compliment. It really wasn’t all that impressive, and it hadn’t been that hard (even as his shoulders and back screamed in protest at every move, he wouldn’t admit that it was any trouble).

Then, out of the corner of his eye, gray and white fur. Surely it wasn’t his father? The figure came closer, punched Leroy, and then stopped in front of him. Selby allowed excitement to flow through him, though the only indication of that would be pricked ears and a twitching tail. ”Hey, Crow. Nice night, huh?” he greeted.

[Luciferr]

A Z R A Y E L

[late oof, I was away the weekend apologies]

He turns when someone approaches and speaks to him - but inclines his head to Selby and Crow as they meander by him - an Irish wolfhound, ah, Leroy, who seemed to trying to piece something together perhaps?

The pale dragon hummed, with an approximation of a smile on the skull like visage of his maw ”I only recently joined” he explained with a brief pause ”and I initially came because it seems my younger brother had wandered this way - and given the house I found with its rather distinct mural engraving, this is proved true - though it seems he left again”

In all honestly after finding that out he could have left again to follow him - or joined his father - but then he happens upon their new tiny brother (mortal - and isn’t it just like dad to adopt half a dozen if given the chance, news of a raptor pack as family is not so surprising) and the fact that this place has somewhat grown on him for all that he looks out of place in his porcelain pale form.

Now he hums ”if we’re sharing tales, what brought yourself here? Chance or purpose?”

© MADI