In Dire Straits - In Bloom

We all need a little good clean fun after... that. Also Mia wasn't there, so fill her in, if you can stand to.

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In and out, under over, twist around and pull. Braid the stems, tie the leaves, arrange the petals. Pretty purple flowers litter the ground, and Miasma's never seen them before. Likely, neither has Sarissa. It's a shame she didn't come. So, take the flowers back to her.

The dire weaves her souvenir, on her belly, leaned on the trunk of a jacaranda. She wonders what Shuck's up to. She hopes Sarissa misses her. She's so very prone to loneliness.

It was fun, skipping through Inaria’s fields of dandelion, having the white puffballs scatter beneath her paws and fly up to the sky. Bell’s mouth gaped open, laughing with puppy-like abandon … until one of the puffballs sucked itself straight down her throat.

“HRRRK—!”

She stumbled, coughed, and tripped her way down a steep grassy knoll, rolling right over onto Miasma’s lap and probably ruining the flower crown she had poured all her blood and tears in!! Oh no!

If Bellamy didn’t get punched in the face right then and there, she’d sheepishly look up at the turquoise-eyed wolf. This … was not the first impression she wanted to impart on the Inarian citizens, that’s for sure.

“Um. I have no idea what just happened, but … my bad.”

Miasma was a sweet little girl. She’d forgive her, right?

From above in the purple foliage the cat watched. The tip of his tail twitched and flicked as his eyes watched the canine below him. Such strange creatures these wolves could be, this one was working her paws on the branches of purple trees. Deppi broke his gaze from her to the leaves he was sheltering himself amongst, they were odd. They never turned green, never turned fall, just went from purple to dead purple. Only similarity these leaves had with the other trees was taste, that he discovered the first day he wandered into these woods. Heck, they looked different, maybe they tasted different, right??

“HRRRK—!” Vibrant green eyes and wispy fur snapped upwards to the knoll above then as a ball of fur came tumbling down. Head over heels the bundle of fluff rolled until its body covered the limbs weaved by the female he had been watching. When the forward motion stopped the newly arrived pup unfurled itself, looked timidly up at the other, “Um. I have no idea what just happened, but … my bad.”

“BAH!!” The cat couldn’t stop the laughing gasp from escaping his lips. It rocked him on his small limb, his tail swung wildly like a squirrel, his body bobbed side to side as his center of balance washed back and forth like a wave. Deppi had managed to drag his body just a simple ten foot up the tree, but it was still not a fall the lynx wanted to take, but regardless gravity had other opinions. One long teeter to the left and away he began to slide. Attempts were made to claw and grab the branch as his rear end went overboard.

Momentarily he dangled, arms fully extended and trying as he might he could not pull himself up, his nails dug in, and the bark began to give. It wasn’t slow motion, it was a quick cut through the air as the grayish blur detached from the tree and hit the ground with an audible Oooooph .

As quickly as he hit the ground he scrambled to stand, he rolled from his back, to belly, and with a snap of his joints stood. He sized the other animal up, ears set back, and tail swishing behind him. Neither seemed to be too threatening to him, neither of the mass or size of those fringe wolves that lurked around. “Heya! Uh, hard day for standing, hm?!”

Still open!

  Flowers are so delicate-- and that's part of the beauty, isn't it? To appreciate them while you can, before it all falls apart. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and god, does she hope Sarissa feels the same aching inside her ribs. That's why roses are so special. The thorns.

  Miasma has thorns, too. The child crashes into her, obliterates her handiwork, and backs away, balking. Thick fur rises, muscles tensing, and she stands, staring forlornly at the rumpled remnants of flowers. Cut turquoise, so sharp, shifts to Bellamy then. "Say you're sorry." Her voice falls out of the affected pitch it usually holds while the demand falls from her mouth. So much more like her father, like this. It's a simple order, easily abided. She likes children, because they're quick to correct. If no answer is forthcoming-- even in shock from the stark shift in demeanor-- she steps forward, ears flattening. "Say you're fucking sorry."

  The dire's ears straighten and swivel, head following suddenly when the cat flops to the earth with a huff. “Heya! Uh, hard day for standing, hm?!”

  As quickly as it came, the mood passes: fur flattening and smile accompanying the excited raising of her tail and voice. "Kitty!"