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Post by Songwind and Brawn Oakbrush. on Oct 23, 2006 8:09:16 GMT -5
**Song glanced at Rowan's side. She looked up and smiled at Jamie.** Four, actually, Rowan, you said you couldn't dance?
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Post by Tempest Zahrah on Oct 23, 2006 19:41:17 GMT -5
Tempest was just about to reach her goal when she was intercepted by a beast. She studies him for a while before she finally figured out who the beast was..Rowan wasn't it? Grinning at the beast she said," Hi, ummm Rowan, right? How's it been?"
((OOC: sorry I'll modify this later. My fingers are so cold I can't use them and apparently also my brain...heehee.))
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Post by Rowan Sorriven & Jamie Sareem on Oct 23, 2006 20:31:02 GMT -5
OOC No prob, but I wish it is cold in Florida. Rowan looks from side to side. "I can at a mediocre level, though Jamie here has been teaching me every day." Jamie smiles at Song, nodding. "Four you say? I must of overlooked one of them on my quick diagnose." Rowan turns and smiles back at Tempest, clenching his side. "Hey Tempest. I haven't seen you around lately. It's been pretty good, besides from breaking four of my ribs. By the way, meet my wife Jamie Sareem." Jamie hears her name mentioned, and the pretty female otter turns around and bows, the otter pendent hanging from her neck. "Nice to meet you..." Rowan nods. "Tempest Zahrah." Jamie turns red with embarrassment. "Err, Tempest Zahrah." OOC Literally. You must have been busy or something. I don't mean to ask about it, but I am just implying what I think.
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Post by Song to lazy on Oct 25, 2006 20:31:25 GMT -5
**Song smiled back, She grabbed Brawn's arm roughly, and he pulled her into his embrace. The pretty squirrelmaiden grinned at her husband. She had been looking forward to this dance and was ready to kick up her heels to some jolly music. This melancholy stuff was not good enough. She reached for Brawn's paw and he accepted. Her skinny form waltzed over to the musicans and she smiled at them, causing her small face to glow.** Hello, Can you play something more happy?
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Post by Rocky Rimblade on Oct 26, 2006 6:19:35 GMT -5
**The squirrel’s head rose sharply up, slightly surprised and annoyed at the mouse’s words. Had he shown any signs of rejection to the food, he was not sure. The squirrel was not sure who the brash young beast was, but that was no real shocker, as he was fairly new to the Guardians of Mossflower’s forces. Rocky attempted to think of a kind response, but his general bluntness and rebellion took over at the mouse’s obvious annoyance at the squirrel. The squirrel never felt very pleased at the tone of voice the mouse was using, and it seemed to hit a nerve with the squirrel. The squirrel noticed from obvious body language that the mouse was using that he seemed to be offering a sort of challenge of dignity to the squirrel. Now, Rocky was one who sort of enjoyed a challenge in an odd sort of way, and had a feeling a sort of confrontation would soon arise between the two, if not then and there, then somewhere else. The tension between them was obvious, the mouse was awaiting an answer. However, the squirrel was reluctant to start anything lest he get in a sort of trouble with his other fellow members, and really wanted to stay with them, to move up the ranks, to be all that he could be, so to say.**
I find it all right, have you tried it? It is quite nice, a good flavor to it.
**The squirrel could see the large, full dish from the corner of his wary eyes, but was in no mood to agree with anything the difficult mouse was commenting on or about at the moment. Rocky wondered what brought him to ask that question, was he in some sort of conflict with the current cook, or if he was only a depressed, pessimistic beast. Either way, the young squirrel felt slightly uncomfortable around his company, it was too gloomy and provoking for his liking. After taking another bite from his plate of fish, a slight stab at the inquiring mouse, the squirrel stood abruptly up, pushing his chair in carefully behind him. Rocky heard a new song being played, a fast ballad, sung by a comically-garbed hare, a fast, fun tune to dance to. If only the squirrel had a partner, pretty maids to make the already long night pass faster, to enjoy him. The squirrel wished for a companion to accompany him to the floor, as he stood uncomfortably to the side, his hands set on his hips. The squirrel had brought no weapons with him, not expecting any sort of use for it at that place, for it was full of fully capable beasts, many of them armed. Any enemies of the Guardians would have to be quite stupid or ridiculously brave to intrude on the ongoing party, with all the capable warriors nearby and all.
The squirrel cautiously walked to the floor, tired of standing near the wall like a hopeless, maid-rejected beast. The squirrel began to slowly sway, reluctant to put on to strong or brash of a first impression, as this would be for most of the beasts. Upon spotting the leader of the Guardians, Rocky strode semi-confidently up to him, attempting to strike what would most likely come off as nervous chitter-chatter, much to the disappointment of the squirrel, which was indeed trying to come off on a good note with the legendary otter. The squirrel could feel his young heart beating, as he was excited to finally meet the famed leader of the Guardians of Mossflower. He had not actually met him when he had signed up, and had only seen him sparingly in his short time around the fort.**
The weather has been quite fine, eh?
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Post by Shadow-Risk & Rosemary on Oct 29, 2006 19:19:32 GMT -5
**Laylark had now taken up fiddling with his cuffs. They’re funny things, cuffs. This fox’s were particularly fiddleable, if such a thing could be said. As he stared forward either into space or at the extremely interesting wall, his paws fidgeted and tugged at his cuff. Whether he realized it or not one couldn’t say.... but let us move on.
Now Laylark had moved from anxiety, to fear, to extreme boredom, and his lip was starting to get sore from being chewed on too much. Despite all this, something tugged his attention away from that wall to cast, once more, a glance at the door. He was stunned.
There stood Risk. Everything about her- her dress, her fur, the candlelight dancing in her eyes, was dazzling. Her lateness meant nothing, and did nothing but add to the effect, and for a second, Laylark could’ve sworn his heart stopped. But, of course, this moment lasted for little more than a second, for all of a sudden he was looking at her back, the silky voice of her pursuer shattering the moment.
For a moment Laylark was reminded strongly of a certain fox. His dashing good looks, his meticulously well groomed fur, his clothes; even the tone of his voice was so much like Raeulth. If it had been under other circumstances Laylark might have even had enough time to get choked up over his dear friend, but the part of him that still screamed of Raeulth’s death had been consumed by a deep smouldering hatred that had developed in those brief five seconds. The red fox gritted his teeth and strode silently over to the pari, glaring at the newcomer. Ever so quietly, he slipped his arm under Risk’s and composed himself enough to mumble a greeting, a shy smile on his lips.**OOC: Ew it's so short. XD **A short, light gasp escaped ever so beautifully from Risk's lips as Laylark quickly appeared and slipped his arm warmly under her own. A warm heat filled her pretty little face, and a soft, glowing smile danced on her lips. She had ducked her head a little out of timidness, yet relief was plain in the vixen's dark eyes. He noticed me! And he took my arm... As though... As though gently defending me from this other young fox.
Biting her lip, she quickly returned her distracted attention to Ragfur, who had just been rising from his elegant bow. Trying to find words to politely respond to his query was not as easy as it should have been, for she was still a little out of breath from Laylark's sudden presence.** Um... Risk. Shadow-Risk is my name. **Smiling she dipped her head, once again in formal politeness, and Shadow-Risk. What a lovely name. **The young, dashing fox rose from his bow slowly, and somewhat stiffly adressed the other male fox who now tenderly stood so close to the vixen. Oh? And who is this? Her dear lover? So disappointing... Yet, it seems as though they are very awkward around eachother. This must mean they are fairly new in expressing their affections... And that means... It is simply all too easy to ruin their fair, young love, leaving the vixen to my whim. His mind working rapidly to assess and handle the situation, the new warrior worked simultaneously to keep a cool, calm appearance.**
Hello. **He offered a smile to the unwanted fox, but made no attempt to make it as elegant, charming, or inviting as his earlier smile to Risk.** I'm terribly afraid that we have not meet as of yet, either.**Somewhat apprehensive that the two were off to an ill start, Risk interceded on part of her love and commander. Her words were soft and yet bright, very appeasing altogether.** Oh? You haven't? Well, this is Commander Laylark of the Dominus Nox division. He is quite the leader, don't you know? **Smiling pleasantly, she attempted to keep the two foxes on better notes. The last thing this Army needs is a quarl between recruit and commander... And I most certainly will not be the one to start or tolerate such an immature argument.Ah. **The somewhat deflated response wasn't cold, per se, but it was most certainly not warm. It was most apparent to the shrewd fox that this Commander Laylark was very attached to the young vixen. However, Ragfur was not one to easily give up when presented with a challenge, as long as the reward was worth fighting for. Oh, she is most worth fightin' for.** My greatest pleasure to meet ye in person, Commander. I have heard o' ye, of course. Ye seem to be quite the honorable leader. **He smiled politely, but his eyes betrayed his irritation and stiffness if one looked hard enough. Offering a paw in a manner to appear civilized, he once again offered his name and titles.** I am Ragfur. My friends call me "the Brave", as well. Once again, t'is a pleasure to meet ye, Commander.
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Laylark
Ret. Commander
Head Rogue
That's what I call talent.
Posts: 1,244
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Post by Laylark on Nov 11, 2006 16:57:59 GMT -5
**Laylark was starting to like Ragfur even less. The smile on his lips faded to a sort of grimace that still tried hopelessly to keep the shape of a grin. As the fox addressed him, it was easy to see his polite front was merely a mask; reluctant courtesy. He was about to reply when Risk did so for him.** "Oh? You haven't? Well, this is Commander Laylark of the Dominus Nox division. He is quite the leader, don't you know?"
**Laylark's mismatched eyes darted to his companion's face, each one full of surprise. He felt his cheeks grow red and had to look down at the floor, the brim of his hat covering his now genuine smile.
It was then that the other side of him- the one that had been yelling to him about how he was holding her arm- caught his attention. The young fox was about to splutter something stupid and let go when his eyes wandered back to the dashing Ragfur. It took little time for him to remember his hate and again he looked away, somewhat sullenly, at the wall. He wanted desperately to ask Risk to dance, but it all felt too awkward. A certain dashing fox didn't make it any easier either. And so, Laylark bit his lip once more any stayed silent as the music played on...** OOC: So *twitch* short. D:
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Post by Mary Narai on Nov 11, 2006 21:47:24 GMT -5
OOC: Taundor? Hello? You can post any flipping day now, I dont' mind. Just HURRY UP!!! Sorry,moment of impatence. If you dont' want to post again,then can you please tell me? Please?
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Post by Taundor Whitefang on Nov 11, 2006 21:59:44 GMT -5
OOC: *runs and hides* Sorry Taundor hesitantly started dancing. He knew he was probably going to knock Mary down, but what could he do. He couldn't just give up now. Taundor slowly moved his footpaws into, what he hoped, a dance. A slow, shuffling dance, but a dance it was. "Er... is this right?"
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Post by Mary Narai on Nov 11, 2006 22:03:51 GMT -5
OOC: *drags him back out.* What are you sorry for? I'm sure it's your busy Irl life's fault. BIC:* Mary looked down at Taundor's feet,pondering for a moment,then looking up to speak . To be honest,it wasnt' quite a dance,but it would do. Hold on,she couldnt' say that! She then remembered something. She forgot who said it,b ut someone did.* A dance is whatever you make of it. It seems right to me.
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