When she stops so does he. Dust rises in a wild plume to curl and dance above their heads before fading away with the slight breeze. The seas of emerald grass spin and bend to the will of the sea winds – you can taste the salt and smell the ocean, the fresh grass, and the pungent smell of sulfur bubbling from the hot pools scattered across the rocky volcano bases. He watches her stand there for a while, studying her, taking her in. She was too young for him to contemplate ravaging her little frame – he's not into that sort of thing. He likes his girls willing...or at least of age if not the former. She exhumes anticipatory sass. This already draws him a few steps closer, a grin starting the wrinkle the corners of his dark lips.
“Chem.” He just watches her. Leaving his voice to linger with nothing else but the sound of his soft whuffing, the inhale of her scent roll over his olfactory receptors. She smells sweet like the little white woodruff flowers that grow in swaths along the forest floor [in the ashwood forest].
“And you lass, what's your name?” He lifts his head up a bit, perking his pale ears to her response. After he hears it, if she offers an answer, he turns away to walk down the small knoll their standing on. He moves at a calm walk toward the thundering sound of water tumbling a long way into the lake ahead. Mists rise from where the lake and falls meet some few miles away. A few trees dot the landscape but mostly it's rolling hills and webs of rivers and streams that move like veins down from the northern Tundra. He turns back to see if she's following, but doesn't wait for her if she's not, just walking steadily toward the massive waterfall and it's volcano neighbors.
chemdog
astra inclinant, sed non obligant.
@[Helleborn]
these two are going to be a riot
weirdos
