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femaletitantype said: "You don’t say."

"I do say. Geez, weren't you payin' attention?"

Daring to jest towards someone that held his own heart, beating under the paws of a lioness. The urge, the need to embrace this goddess before him was dire. Wound in titanium and made of fire, doused only by the tempered fury of her heart.

He has missed her.

He has ached for her in the year he has been gone.

Funny how it felt like a decade.

"Long time no see, Queen."

#in practice;#femaletitantype #{screams at}

They were young.

Like him.

The knowledge pertaining to his own species was lacking, bordering upon the brink into nonexistent depths. What he did know of them was by their appearance. And most whom entered his domain beforehand were older individuals, at least from what he had discerned from body language and a plethora of visages. Alas, such was not the case towards those who trekked in a straying row below. The contours of ivory, umber, and tawny visages alike lacked the aging that others beheld; not a wrinkle to be shown. Only a year less than him, if he could guess--yet some could be very well older than him. Intrigue gave birth to contemplation centered towards their reason for being here, continuing to gaze upon the second group that had split from the other.

They continued to tread deeper into a kingdom that they knew not of, resonance of boisterous footsteps keeping him perfectly aware of where they were. A single voice rang out past the others, assertive and instructive as it carried away across the expansive emerald. Assumption in that they were the leader of the smaller pack, spewing indistinguishable information to the youths behind him. Admittance to their skill was bereft of him, unable to be impressed by the amount of stomping and slashing at vegetation that failed to barricade their way. Fool, he labeled the brute. This land held wrath in its' veins, not blasted venom or poison.

Ah--

But someone had wandered.

Ceased was the silent crawl across knotted bark, brows furrowed marginally in dawning concentration. Where five were once there, now only four remained. One by one he counted, eventually coming to the being that was burned into his mind. A female, he thinks, golden crown embedded into a mind--seemingly upheld in the form of a tail. Single golden tendril bobbed amusingly along the back of her neck, the user seemingly annoyed with the state of aureate tresses. --But he was becoming sidetracked. Curiosity in aberrant behavior was his crutch, head inclined to the path behind him. And he peered towards the recent disturbance of brush, blades shifted away from someone's presence.

And he dashed away across the canopy.

#gwxndy #in wild;#{screams at}