#dewyhorn

[tamwah]

I think that you try to be a racict, horny furry to blend in, but deep inside, your a wholesome furry. (An unfortunate rarity)

i love how this implies u have to be racist and horny to blend in with furries LOLall jokes aside, im obviously not racist or that horny but im also not wholesome im pretty average

i think ur the type of person who would send funny cat pics to ur S/O and say “this is you” 

[askthescarfedsilhouette]

(Um, sure I don’t mind. Though please do be careful..)

[taakayama]

dewyhorn replied to your post: doodle

Hey another furry warlock

GOOD TO SEE SOMEONE CAUGHT IT!!!

[tamwah]

Poison cause your toxic

dewyhorn more like ewwwyhorn. report me bitch !!

[askthescarfedsilhouette]

(Aaah I’ve been booped!)

[pallideinanis]

🔪 ... Why did you ask me to do this?... I feel like this is a trap... O h W e l l.

SEND

The Outsider, as was his former title, is quick to take note the odd sense of joy the other seems to gain from his request – even despite his inebriated state. He’s also quick to shrug it off, knowing full-well how very few in this life didn’t covet this opportunity. To slay the Outsider.

Or what was left of him, at least.

Hazel eyes are half-lidded and he sways slightly in place. Hand tightly gripping the glass neck of his bottle of brandy, he sloppily lifts the alcohol to his lips–managing to spill the drink on himself in the process–and he poisons himself once again with that same numbing feeling he had grown accustomed to during his time in the Void. 

“M….my reas’ns are myyyown.” Voice nasal and slurred, thick brows furrow as the drunk ex-god tries his damnedest to focus on the one with the weapon. “Jus’ do it already.“

“Please.” He adds after a moment’s silence, his tone demanding and irritated, almost as though he was unafraid of his request. Or, perhaps, wasn’t aware of what exactly he was asking. 

[pallideinanis]

💅(+reverse) Why would you put your mark on the back of someone's hand? Its just not very stylish at all!

SEND💅 – painting their [finger/toe] nails 

Precise hand moments. Careful now. Not too fast. The Outsider’s brow knits together as he concentrates. A small paintbrush within his grasp, on the tip of its bristles sat a wonderful purple hue, chosen by the god himself after a rather long decision-making process: eliminating those he did not wish to use, only to reconsider and bring them back into his already large pile of possible paints to decide upon. Slowly he drags the paint along the mortal’s nail, careful in his movement as he wishes to not smudge or paint outside of the nail bed. 

Once the question is asked, the god pulls back out of fear of making a mistake. Black eyes pouring into the other in an annoyed manner from being interrupted. He releases the mortal’s hand and places the small brush back into the bowl filled with pigment. 

Brow still furrowed, the Outsider nearly barks. “I won’t be able to complete this if you interrupt me.” 

[askthescarfedsilhouette]

(Oh my Ancestors! I don’t know who they are, but they are amazing!!!)