It blossomed before him, a sense of privacy beveled by luxury, the dense moss cushioned every step and the beast relished it, savoring its’ denseness, the humidity that hung beneath the tangled boughs above his spine—encased in their woven expanse, a heavy netting that scarcely allowed a fresh, crisp billow from winds above. It reminded him of the place before this place—the chapter before this. The tangles of overgrowth and their poorly made trails, they wound deep and around through the thicket. Weary of the cold dampness of the Obsidian Hollow, the thicket was a reprieve to be enjoyed. He intended to walk its every inch.

Vilde had been working diligently in the garden she and Calypso had made together, nestled nicely in a clearing amongst the dense tangle of trees. By now she had quite the collection of herbs, toxins... poisons... and an occasional "spice" to flavor her meat (and her existence) from time to time. She found that her "spices" were generally just to keep her own sanity from straying too far, she could quit at any time! She just didn't feel like it!

Today she was working on getting one particular bushel of hemlock planted and in place so that she could start playing with a rather potent recipe she had been DYING to try. At the same time, she went along and pruned the rest of her deadly assortments.

@Baphomè

code by corvus

He was not alone.

He was also blissfully unaware of that fact. He’d no mind for self-preservation, never had need to worry of happenstances of random cruelty. He was the apex predator; he was the one whom feasted on the flesh of mortals. He, was the epitome of free—and that, that had him swaggering through the thicket.

And so, Baphome continued along his stroll—enjoying the threads of warm sunlight that managed to touch the dark carmine of his coat, taking in the birdsong filling the air, and whispering of the wind through tangles of growth.

He, simply, did not have a care in the world.

@Vilde

As the young toxicologist worked, she heard the undeniable sound of someone barreling their way past. She lifted her gaze from her work to catch the swaggering visage of an entitled male going by. His poise was nothing short of arrogant, like a King in his castle strutting along wearing barely anything but a robe that hung agape... exposed for the world to marvel upon. It was rather disgusting.

Vilde didn't know this male, and she sure didn't know who he THOUGHT he was... but perhaps this was a prime opportunity to test something she had been working on for quite some time. A mischievous grin spread across her muzzle as she pushed her paw through a small pelt bracelet that held a proportionate pouch to store her newest invention. Once ready, she set out to catch up with the "King of the Thicket"

He was not hard to find and quickly she adjusted her path to be perpendicular to his own direction of travel. Seemingly happenstance, the two would cross paths. Vilde would give the male a shy smile as the male came into sight, girlish and sweet. Innocent, in a way.

"Pardon me! The whole thicket, and we find ourselves here at the same time. It happens to me far more often than you'd expect."

She chuckled, making for casual conversation as she took in her surroundings a bit more.

@Baphomè

code by corvus

He saw her figure, clasped behind the thicket’s growth; her dark large, blackened figure filling the path.

His brows lifted themselves in muted bemusement at the happenstance, though before he could adjust his own path to evade hers, she called for his attention. Girlish in the manner she held herself, youthful in the face enough to imply she was far from a state of maturity. Her exclamation, definitely lent more than what was needed for the illusion.

You must be rather clumsy then, a stultified reply, dead-panned as he came to a pause—her chuckle something unsettling, and suggested a clucky-hen more than a winsome stranger. Still, it seemed as though @Vilde wanted something of him, and so he'd wait. It was only polite thing to do.

Vilde's face fell for a fraction of a second, expressing her disdain and general annoyance at his dead-pan comment. Her blue gaze calling him an asshole through and through as she grumbled back with the same dead-pan tone.

"Truly."

She then appeared to brush off the comment, walking to his rear before attempting to come up on his other side, her tail swishing with each stride.

"Well-"

She said with a shrug and a sigh, sarcasm coating the next few words she spoke. Then she got into why she was really here.

"-now that we're practically the best of friends, I was hoping you might have the time to try something I've been working on.

You see, I'm a bit of an aspiring herbalist, and if you are interested, I've been working on a kind of perfume or cologne. Y'know, something to... make you smell nice."

Vilde rose her paw with the fur pouch twisted around her wrist to show the male. Her brow hiked as she watched him, hoping he would agree to try it. If he didn't, after all, this would have just been an unacceptable waste of her time.

@Baphomè

code by corvus

She circled him—as one might a meal. He’d never felt revulsion in feeling wanted before, yet a foreboding notion gathered in the air between. He watched her motions, taking her in with caution. His eyes making inventory as a thief might—appraising each movement with care of a keen eye. He withdrew as she went parallel. His expression darkened with skepticism as @Vilde began her snakeoil show. Curious recruitment method if I ever heard one, he began, with the ghost of a laugh filling each note. He took in the large woman with caution, Implying I stink? He gave her a jesting look. No, I believe I’ll skip the demonstration.

So, a waste of her time it would be... indeed. Or, perhaps she needed to simply work harder for what she wanted? He watched his reactions to her closely, finding that he was no more attracted to her than she was to him. At some degree, that was refreshing. She had been absolutely driven mad by the males of her homeland... to be tolerated, well, that was new.

"Then I suppose you've never heard one."

The dark-pelted female shot back at him, her tone rather average now that he had expressed his disinterest. He chuckled at her implication that he stunk, and she even couldn't help a sly smile upon her lips.

"At least I implied it could be remedied."

Unlike a sour personality... a sour smell could be covered or washed away. The young woman shrugged at his rejection, stepping back to signal that she would not stop him if he chose to leave. With a nod she would silently communicate 'as you wish' once he'd offered to skip her demonstration.

She lingered on the side of the path, giving him a respectful berth. She wanted to make sure he left and would not follow her back to her garden... she didn't trust his jovial personality in the slightest. Instead, the woman simply sat and began to groom her paw as she waited for him to make his exit.

@Baphomè

code by corvus

Spiteful. The jab was not lost on him as she came in with a swift retort. His lips found an impish grin at the heat there. Amused at the billowed embers of her temper. Were there buttons to press? Could he pester it? He felt a keenness to try—to stir, to rile. The impulse was strong, yet—was this the time for it? Even a flea could bring upon plagues. Yes, better not tempt fate.

So you did, he added with a laugh, watching her theatrics. He spoke as he’d turned away from the woman and whatever tricks she’d laid on that path—no, seemed better to go the way he came (or, perhaps to be contrary for the sake of), the fickle little beast. Over his shoulder, he left her with: Better luck next time, ma étrange ami. exit