CAN’T CUT YOU UP AND HIDE YOU // JOINING

[aesior]

EVERY GRIN WE SHARE IS LIKE.
"speech." . 'thoughts' . attack

A silent chuckle would leave the tom, a sense of amusement rather than offense filling him. Looking over his shoulder at the blossoms sprouting there, he would tap his paw on the ground as if in some form of thought. No. It wasn't unusual to see mutations and genetic differences but the glowing of Seven's pelt and his own flowers weren't necessarily seen very often. Blinking softly in reassurance at her, he would write again, 'You stay. Help now then. Help feed, patrol.' he would give a friendly shrug as he showed the paper to her. Juli-vintagepsin huh? He'd have to remember that name as strange as it was, his own must also surely be strange.

Nodding as he wrote, 'Common. Us uncommon. Seven blind. Me mute. Flowers for words.', he amended as he pulled out another notebook where he'd kept a guide of his language of flowers. It was far easier than taking a different body and dealing with the discomfort those bodies gave him, feeling more at home in the body he was born in. Although, communication was easier in those bodies versus his birth body.

A PRAYER COMMITTED TO THE SONG WE SING.
aesior opheles of tanglewood. -- grim - feline shifter.

credit @/teef