The mist brings with a drop in temperature, it interrupts them so suddenly that he’s unable to swallow and answer her before a stallion materializes. Chemdog, annoyed, corrects his posture to bring his head up, looking at the stallion and then to Bardot. He reaches out boldly to press his wet muzzle against her hot shoulder, he breathes against her and pulls away. “No, but I’m just north, visit anytime.” the words are low and under his breath and he recoils back into his own space, his eyes fixating back onto the stallion. He doesn’t scowl, or really emit his unwarranted irritation, but he doesn’t exactly smile either. Greeting the man with a delayed nod, “I’m north of here; I’m passing through, she’s here for her own reasons..” he exhales, squinting slightly, and then turning to the buckskin. “If they’ll not have you because you’re no shifter,” he chuffs a sarcastic laugh, “You can always go north. It’s not a place of requirements and structure.” his eyes move back to Spirit.
…maybe he ought to stay with her? he is inclined to, for a split second
“Pleasure to meet you Spirit – I’m Chemdog, I’ve taken over the Cove; give Gale and Mazikeen my best, I’ll be back, if humbly may,” he inhales, tipping his white ears back, “for a formal visit.” He made the decision to leave her, or at least make it look like so. She didn’t want to come with him originally to Silver Cove when he asked her, she thought it distasteful, a barefoot and pregnant look – rude – and so, she suits herself now. He grinds his jaw, a polite smile to Spirit and another swipe of his whiskered muzzle across Bardot’s buttery color fur (a quiet goodbye) and he walks away.
He walks toward Silver Cove where the land ascends slowly and not by much, but enough to find a quiet copse of trees. His snake slithers down his leg and to the ground as he walks, not turning back to look. Slowly as the land changes, he gets smaller, and then morphs seamlessly into fox made of earth and roots and moss, sprinkled with tiny ferns and moss. He’s the size of regular fox, moving sly and silent into the trees where he finds a tall stone to perch on and watch.
When he sees she’s fine, or accepted, he’ll skitter off. Back home, back onto the soil that feels right and welcoming beneath his feet.
CHEMDOG
to the window, to the wall
to the window, to the wall
his shifted form: something like dis
@[spirit] & @[Bardot] ♥
