between you and i }} ambassador from the typhoon

[aesior]

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

tasks seemed never-ending around the swamps, but even he knew that it was part of a portion of what they must do to recover. sleep was long forgotten in the pursuit of freeing the trapped and tending the wounded. his paws carried him with a numb report against the muddy ground, the sound so common to his ears that it no longer reached him as more than a background sound. breath shaking in his chest as he fought off a sneeze that threatened to steal all of his breath, he stopped to stare up at the sky. spying what he thought of as a bird, squinting at the vibrantly colored wings until the sun was no longer glaring into his eyes, and he could make out the alabaster pelt of a winged feline heading for tanglewood's borders.

some part of his senses told him to get ready, a creature flying towards them could only mean ill to come. shaking his head, he glowered to himself, 'not every rumor you hear is true. not every word of mouth can be trusted.' the tom would console himself as he headed towards the border which alexandre was winging towards. inhaling, he shook himself out, mindless of the mud sticking to his paws. whiskers trembling from the force of his shaking, he pushed himself into a trot, with a mission in mind. coming up to the border, the gray tom would observe the fair pelted other, a small but silent chuckle bubbling in his throat, before he made himself known, stepping out from the swamp and into view. offering him a nod, the mute tom would step forward and after a quick look around, realizing he'd left his well-known satchel and it's books at home, he would give a frustrated breath before turning his head to look back to alexandre. attempting to reach out to the succubus' mind, "alexandre was it? i am the luminary, what can i do for you?. apologies, i am mute. let me know if this isn't comfortable for you." if he couldn't reach him, he would look around for a pliable piece of bark or leaf to write upon with his claws. he supposed that he could change form but the less exertion he had to put his recovering body through, the better.

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

credit @/teef