07-30-2018, 01:46 PM
It's a rather odd site to happen upon. This creature seemingly made of lava and obsidian, dangerous in many ways and cute in many others, is willingly submitting himself to be of lower status than those surrounding him - Vandal can see in the way he moves that it's a principle hammered into his instincts so strongly that he isn't aware of its repercussions. She wonders if there's any way to break his view on hierarchy, and she wonders if she'll be able to do it before he grows up thinking that he's meant to be nothing more than a slave under somebody else's jurisdiction.
Vandal makes her approach with her curious eyes set on the Hellhound, curious but worried about how he must've grown up to act like this now. He seems happy enough to be following orders as he's told... she doesn't understand that, the concept of finding happiness in being told what to do. Vandal has always lived life the way she chooses to live it. The freedom of choice is what she lives by, and she'll be damned if anyone tries to shackle her down and tell her what to do.
Two opposing concepts.
The maned wolf comes to stand beside Deldrach, brushing her tail against the jaglionesses' in a light gesture of greeting without it being too overwhelming. Vandal still isn't sure if Deldrach is all too keen on public affection (Vandal certainly is, but not everything is about her). Because she has yet to find an answer, she keeps her touches light and fleeting but with enough meaning that it's easy for the others to miss... but easy for Del to recognize. Her gaze lingers on her for a moment before sweeping back to the young hellpup.
He is hardwired to think that others may claim ownership of him like a toy. She wants to break that, however, she knows saying it outright would not bode well for any of them. Things like this, when something is already branded into another's brain, must be taken slowly. They can get to that later, she decides, and she offers the young creature a small smile and a flick of her tail in greeting. "Great to meetcha, Dagda. I'm Vandal. Is there anything you'd like to have righ' now?"
Vandal makes her approach with her curious eyes set on the Hellhound, curious but worried about how he must've grown up to act like this now. He seems happy enough to be following orders as he's told... she doesn't understand that, the concept of finding happiness in being told what to do. Vandal has always lived life the way she chooses to live it. The freedom of choice is what she lives by, and she'll be damned if anyone tries to shackle her down and tell her what to do.
Two opposing concepts.
The maned wolf comes to stand beside Deldrach, brushing her tail against the jaglionesses' in a light gesture of greeting without it being too overwhelming. Vandal still isn't sure if Deldrach is all too keen on public affection (Vandal certainly is, but not everything is about her). Because she has yet to find an answer, she keeps her touches light and fleeting but with enough meaning that it's easy for the others to miss... but easy for Del to recognize. Her gaze lingers on her for a moment before sweeping back to the young hellpup.
He is hardwired to think that others may claim ownership of him like a toy. She wants to break that, however, she knows saying it outright would not bode well for any of them. Things like this, when something is already branded into another's brain, must be taken slowly. They can get to that later, she decides, and she offers the young creature a small smile and a flick of her tail in greeting. "Great to meetcha, Dagda. I'm Vandal. Is there anything you'd like to have righ' now?"