03-31-2018, 11:21 PM
It was hard not to love mud, considering Beck had grown up in filth and below-poverty. Was it possible to be poorer than poor, to only have mud and trees and brick walls and an open sky as scenery in your living room, to scrounge around in the streets for food? Quite an achievement; out here, distanced from society and roughing it with a bunch of critters in the woods, social class or wealth didn't matter. Eventually the beginnings of their society would evolve and corrupt themselves with riches, an era the boy would unfortunately exist to witness, yet for now, nothing mattered. Nothing but the fact that he was wading chest-deep in a slimy mud. No wonder Beck was so disheveled and grimy all the time -- a quirk shared with the snuffling figure not to far up from the steep ditch the poltergeist found themselves in. Now Beck's mind may have been fractured beyond convenient repair, yet Valo-kas was deranged on whole other level. Not necessarily in a bad way, that would be hypocritical, but just... weird. He wasn't a fancy word poet, and never would be so why convolute his observations? Valo was weird as hell.
Flicking sludge from his paws as he high-stepped through the mud, Beck trudged towards the blurred figure of the mutant. Before he could heave himself from the mud-filled ditch he was in, his footing slipped and stumbled, chin splatting against the mud and causing a pitiful splash. "Goddamn-fff --" came the whistling hiss through clenched teeth as he sloppily recovered, drenched in mud. Luckily mud could cover the cold flush rising to his features from Valo's three-eyed watch, if the mutant cared to look up from their worm-hunting. Spitting out a mouthful of silt and ruffling out his dappled pelt, Beck forgot entirely about Valo's presence, busy wringing mud from his apparition.
[align=center]»――▸Flicking sludge from his paws as he high-stepped through the mud, Beck trudged towards the blurred figure of the mutant. Before he could heave himself from the mud-filled ditch he was in, his footing slipped and stumbled, chin splatting against the mud and causing a pitiful splash. "Goddamn-fff --" came the whistling hiss through clenched teeth as he sloppily recovered, drenched in mud. Luckily mud could cover the cold flush rising to his features from Valo's three-eyed watch, if the mutant cared to look up from their worm-hunting. Spitting out a mouthful of silt and ruffling out his dappled pelt, Beck forgot entirely about Valo's presence, busy wringing mud from his apparition.