TITANIUM | patrol

[gael]

♛

Bathed in the light of a sunrise, the vulpine's fur shimmered molten.  Glinting a green-specked gold, Gael's cold eyes analyzed the awakening marketplace.  Prone to more ire as of late, the breeze shifted unpredictably close to the faerie -- natural for a moment then biting the next.

While his irritation may find cause in an enemy conqueror, the winter season simply served to bother the fox.  Defiant, Gael set his paws to steady motion.  Simple work brought simple rewards, but they came in welcome packages such as calm and sanctification.

"I'm leading a patrol, for any available and interested," came his raised, but passive voice.  Whether or not he amassed a sizable following or not, the vulpine planned on leaving soon.  The borders must be maintained, and under the gentler morning sun the travel would be more amiable.

Beside his resting paws, a simple woven basket sat.  A secondary mission the faerie felt inclined to carry out.

"ISN'T IT LOVELY?" —-- gael ó broin / faerie / pittian / lamby

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[aine.]

[align=center]— aine | the pitt | commodore of the crows | fae druid —

The petite vixen bounced.  Scrambling paws and a shy smile offered up at her father.  She knew she hardly fit the typical 'apprentice-age' range of other groups, but she wandered about on her own all the time and no one seemed to mind.  That must mean she could patrol.  Simple.

Curiously, her hazel hues lingered on the basket.  What did he need a basket for, if he was just walking around to check their borders?  Oh maybe, he's restocking.  We haven't done that in a while.  She rocked on her soot-colored paws, eager to move and soon.  "I can carry the basket, da," she offered up.

— I'll come back when you call me —

[Crackers]

FOURTHWALL & GLITCHHOP
BLACK-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND / BROWN-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND
MALE - 22 - SOCIAL & VIOLENT / FEMALE - 17 - OBEDIENT & CHEERFUL - THE PITT

______________________________________________________________________________
THEY SAY THAT I AM THE SICK BOY
EASY TO SAY WHEN YOU DON'T TAKE THE RISK, BOY

Fourthwall had been sticking close to camp for the last several days due to his 'condition', but for whatever reason his paws had found themselves terribly restless the last several hours. When the brindle fox heard Gael call out he was on his feet in moments and padding toward the other vulpine. Fourth had been starved for interaction and had been overwhelmed by boredom, and this was the only out that had been offered to him all day.

"I'll come alone." he offered, tail giving a gently swish behind him that was clearly a motion of eagerness. He didn't know much about Gael since they'd never really spent much time together, and generally when he was around the other fox it was because Aine was nearby. Was he expecting them to become best friends? No, but he was going to enjoy whatever company he could. Besides, Aine was there.

The small, innocent, wide-eyed child was perhaps the first child that Fourth had ever really felt a extreme fondness for that wasn't his own. She was a ray of fucking sunshine that the clan was in desperate need of, and he hadn't forgotten how she'd fought to try and protect her father and friends- twice. He was certain that, at the very least, her cheerful nature would distract him from his boredom and self-pity.

WELCOME TO THE NARCISISM,
WE'RE UNITED UNDER OUR INDIFFERENCE

"Fourthwall/neutral/Glitchhop"

♡♡♡
tags

[Kydobi]

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NOTHING SWEET 'BOUT MY MISERY -
♕tags-powers♕

[OOC: ]

Now cleaned up, his pelt had been returned to its former lustrous glory. It would never be perfect like before. Marks and scars and pieces were always going to be there... but that was okay.

As long as he didn’t think too deeply about how they got there.

There was a calmer air to the brute now. Perhaps even tired, but he still began to pick up is duties like he never... left.

When he hear Gael announce a patrol from across the camp he would make his way there.

Upon seeing all three of them he would dip his head, “I’d like to come”. If the pregnant Fourthwall could come, they couldn’t deny Ky.

[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[gael]

♛

Good, the ink and red vulpine mused.  Fondly, he observed his restless daughter, noting her usual eagerness for motion.  Thoughtfully, his head inclined, pushing the basket forward.  As the resident gardener and a young druid, Gael felt hard-pressed to encourage Aine to manage the Pitt's herb stocks -- with him to offer help when she required it.  "I'd appreciate it, a leanbh."

Soon, golden-hazel eyes shifted.  Analytical in nature, he turned his gaze on Fourthwall.  As an obviously current father, Gael had watched over a pregnant wife.  The Marauder deserved credit for pushing on even during the farthest moments of pregnancy.  Had Fourthwall been Salomé, the faerie may have spoken against a patrol.  The same concern and tender care he felt towards his wife did not exist towards the Marauder -- Gael could offer the other respect and appreciation however, especially for his obvious fondness of and drive to protect Aine.  Fourthwall knew his limits more than Gael did, who offered a curt nod in response.

Kydobi too, presented a matter of concern, yet the jaguar seemed to be recovering.  Once more, the vulpine opted to decide to acknowledge he knew no one's limits.  "Very well," he spoke, glancing back down to Aine for a second.  "I believe this'll do." Like we have anyone else.

Decisively, the fox began to stride into the jungle, expecting the others to follow.  "Keep an eye and nose for fresh herbs, so that we can restock." His daughter's garden offered a pleasant supply, but they could not rely solely on it -- it must be allowed to grow.

// Mobile post

"ISN'T IT LOVELY?" —-- gael ó broin / faerie / pittian / lamby

[align=center]

[aine.]

[align=center]— aine | the pitt | commodore of the crows | fae druid —

Gleeful.  The fox bounced on her heels as she quickly snatched the basket up, held carefully in her jaws.  Were they going now?  Oh no.  They had to wait, right.  For maybe someone else.  That made some sense, she supposed, bright eyes fixed on the jungle beyond the marketplace.

Soon enough, they had assembled a small patrol.  Four, the number her father seemed satisfied the leave with.  Or perhaps he didn't like waiting around either.  Fourthwall and Kydobi, both who earned her father's critical eye, a look she was accustomed to whenever she scraped her leg or had a splinter in her paw, were coming with.  That was good.  Nice.  Wait, were they okay?  Well.  He said it was fine.

Aine nearly stumbled onto her face when her father rose to leave, over-eager to set off.  She had to wobble for a brief second, fiercely holding onto the basket.  When she regained her footing, she bounded right along.

So she was right!  They were restocking herbs.  "'an I'll hold'em!" She mumbled through the handle with a grin, unaware how jumbled her words likely sounded.

— I'll come back when you call me —