04-25-2016, 08:07 AM
Patchouli
Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi
Each step might have been a harsh rap against the fox’s door but Patchouli was under the notion that he was quite stealthy, ignorant as that may be. Against stray rocks and the crunch of snow it seems he would not harbor any element of surprise, instead the animal watched him as he approached but it did not run off- success. When he offered low tones it did not start or scatter, instead it gave him a grin but foxes don’t smile do they? Writing it off as a trick of the sun’s reflection off the snow he blinks, shrugs and watches with quiet curiosity.
It holds his attention with agile movement, stepping forward and for a moment he thinks it might be just as curious about him. He is wrong, so very wrong. With a placement of forefoot against snow it is changing, melting, molding and Patchouli watches in surprise, concerned surprise, unable to move. As the fox molds into something bigger, something more equine Patchouli finds his senses, his legs- he starts. His golden head tosses, sending flaxen tendrils of hair swaying, his legs jerk, propelling him upwards as he rears in his fright. What a mess.
With all due respect it is not every day, or ever that Patchouli has had the pleasure of meeting a shifter. His reaction is wild but he manages not to knock into anyone or anything, reeling back with a few shifting steps. There was now a large horse where the furry fox had been, one with dun colored splashes against a white backdrop, one with wings. Mother would have liked him very much, Patchouli bit his cheek as he calmed, wide eyes slowly softening as the kind greeting passed through the air to his ears.
The man seemed older, definitely much taller but he was obviously a brother so the speckled palomino could do nothing but apologize. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you could- sorry I didn’t know.” At least he could admit that he had undoubtedly overreacted on some level. “Hello Ianto, I’m Patchouli, I’ve just recently assimilated myself into the ranks and brotherhood.” A dip of the head and a smile. No matter how frightened he might have been at first, or how embarrassed he was now- Patchouli always sounded happy.
It holds his attention with agile movement, stepping forward and for a moment he thinks it might be just as curious about him. He is wrong, so very wrong. With a placement of forefoot against snow it is changing, melting, molding and Patchouli watches in surprise, concerned surprise, unable to move. As the fox molds into something bigger, something more equine Patchouli finds his senses, his legs- he starts. His golden head tosses, sending flaxen tendrils of hair swaying, his legs jerk, propelling him upwards as he rears in his fright. What a mess.
With all due respect it is not every day, or ever that Patchouli has had the pleasure of meeting a shifter. His reaction is wild but he manages not to knock into anyone or anything, reeling back with a few shifting steps. There was now a large horse where the furry fox had been, one with dun colored splashes against a white backdrop, one with wings. Mother would have liked him very much, Patchouli bit his cheek as he calmed, wide eyes slowly softening as the kind greeting passed through the air to his ears.
The man seemed older, definitely much taller but he was obviously a brother so the speckled palomino could do nothing but apologize. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you could- sorry I didn’t know.” At least he could admit that he had undoubtedly overreacted on some level. “Hello Ianto, I’m Patchouli, I’ve just recently assimilated myself into the ranks and brotherhood.” A dip of the head and a smile. No matter how frightened he might have been at first, or how embarrassed he was now- Patchouli always sounded happy.
it is better to conquer yourself, than to win a thousand battles
