08-30-2018, 04:16 PM
Poor Otto. Just hanging out by a tree and being told by a stranger to vacate the area, as it was his group’s land. Who’s to say Otto wasn’t here first? What if this place was his home long before the Ascendants came along?
Buffoonery aside, work was indeed advancing well. Presuming this guy’s quick changing of sentiment from sharp to relaxed was out of good faith, the hound could count on these next few steps to unfold comfortably. "I’ll geddup and go, then," Otto mumbled morosely, falsely beating his own breast. Roman was quite a sublime fellow, the fact that he’d soon be mortally wounded nearly bugged Leroy , howbeit not enough to modify his will. Slovenly fur affixed securely its surface as he rotated towards the canopy, his tail hung low in concocted gloominess, before beginning to hobble in the direction of the hardwood. ”See ya ‘round, then”.. It may not seem like it, but the canine was going through a lot of effort to emulate disappointment - displaying any genuine emotion (barring anger and passion) happened to be a rare feat for him. Otto was not him, though. Otto is a traveler, Leroy is a swindler, the only similarity between the two was their appearance and voice, as well as that goddamn foot.
Speaking of which-
Once barely in the shadow of the woodlands’ leaves, his injured leg, the one on the rear left, deliberately made contact with the earth below. Both Otto and Leroy felt the pain. Proceeding from a holler of agony, his frame collapsed, hitting some rogue twigs preceding striking the same earth he stepped on with his damaged limb. Though in authentic pain, it was exaggerated to the point he felt like a fool. It would all be worth it in the end, as long as his victim assisted him.
Buffoonery aside, work was indeed advancing well. Presuming this guy’s quick changing of sentiment from sharp to relaxed was out of good faith, the hound could count on these next few steps to unfold comfortably. "I’ll geddup and go, then," Otto mumbled morosely, falsely beating his own breast. Roman was quite a sublime fellow, the fact that he’d soon be mortally wounded nearly bugged Leroy , howbeit not enough to modify his will. Slovenly fur affixed securely its surface as he rotated towards the canopy, his tail hung low in concocted gloominess, before beginning to hobble in the direction of the hardwood. ”See ya ‘round, then”.. It may not seem like it, but the canine was going through a lot of effort to emulate disappointment - displaying any genuine emotion (barring anger and passion) happened to be a rare feat for him. Otto was not him, though. Otto is a traveler, Leroy is a swindler, the only similarity between the two was their appearance and voice, as well as that goddamn foot.
Speaking of which-
Once barely in the shadow of the woodlands’ leaves, his injured leg, the one on the rear left, deliberately made contact with the earth below. Both Otto and Leroy felt the pain. Proceeding from a holler of agony, his frame collapsed, hitting some rogue twigs preceding striking the same earth he stepped on with his damaged limb. Though in authentic pain, it was exaggerated to the point he felt like a fool. It would all be worth it in the end, as long as his victim assisted him.