Private Roleplay bite my lip - Printable Version

What was this?

A small mouse presses it's tiny body through the cracks and crevices of the old, ruined stone structure. It chews on various things, runs it's little hands over its head to preen, and sniffs the air. Only the sounds of birds calling and chirping through the old growth forest.

A suspiciously spikey shadow begins to loom over it...

WHAM!

Lucy slams his paws in the earth where the mouse once stood, only for it to skillfully evade him and run back into the darkness of some little hole.

aaaaaaAAAARGH. He snarls. Failure seemed to be the only thing he had been tasting recently, and hunger only made him even more rash.

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT. The man's crash-out disturbed the birds, who fled from their perches on trees just to avoid his childish bitching. If there was any chance of catching prey before, he certainly had just ruined it.

Lucy kicked the ground into a puff of dust, defeated once again.

Hendrix’s ear flicked first.

Then the noise hit him.

He didn’t even lift his head right away, just lay there, one eye cracking open as the echo of frustrated screeching bounced off the old stone. A beat passed. Then another.

And then—

A low, amused chuckle rumbled out of his chest.

Well ain’t that a bloody sound… he muttered, finally hauling his head up to look. His gaze landed on the scene…small prey, gone. One pissed off wolf. Dust still settling from that sad excuse of a strike. Hendrix huffed out a laugh, pushing himself up onto his elbows, clearly entertained.

Oi, he called lazily, voice carrying easy through the ruins. You tryin’ to catch it or scare off everythin’ within a mile, mate? His tail gave a slow, lazy thump against the stone as he watched Lucy kick up dirt like a tantrum. ‘Cause I’ll tell ya right now, The Garou went on, grin creeping wider, you ain’t catchin’ shit screamin’ like a koala in heat. He stretched then, slow and deliberate, before rising fully to his feet and sauntering a few steps closer—unhurried, confident. Mismatched eyes flicked briefly to the crack where the mouse had vanished, then back to Lucy.

A voice split his ears and the pale-faced man gazed up to witness a stranger looming at him. The skin between his eyebrows and his eyes scrunched up in disdain and annoyance, though it had already been near that way from the frustration of the rodent.

Lucy felt himself prickle up like a spikey ball of hate before the stranger mentioned something weird sounding, laced in the bizarre-ness of his accent with sounds he hardly heard in his own.

What the fuck's a Koala...? He maintained the angry little asshole glare, but with a crook in his brow to indicate his confusion.

He knew not of southern bear-creatures or their tendency for leaves. Only the sky, the lands he hailed from within it, and the birds that nested in among them. Lucy hated change, hated new things, hated discovery. He didn't want to find new things or meet new people, he just wanted to go home.

But that was not an option, not at all, not at least for a while.

My methods of hunting are of no business of yours. He spat, accent more proper English but different. Rearranged in the way he enunciated every syllable.

Hendrix let out a slow, amused breath through his nose the moment the question hit him. What’s a koala? he echoed, like he couldn’t quite believe the bloke was serious, then he snorted.

Aww circkey mate… you sweet summer child.

He shook his head, grin tugging wider as he leaned back on his haunches, clearly entertained now. It’s one of the dumbest fuckin’ animals to ever walk this earth, he said easily, tone dripping with casual disdain. Sits in a tree eatin’ leaves from a stick all day like it’s got somewhere important to be. Barely knows how to survive, and sounds like a broken toy when it tries to speak.

A short laugh followed, rough and low.

Honestly? Sounds just as stupid as it looks. Brain’s smoother than river stones.

Then the mood shifted—barely, but enough. Hendrix’s mismatched eyes flicked back to him, sharper now when the other wolf snapped about hunting. That grin didn’t fade, but something behind it tightened. Ohhh nah, he drawled, slow and deliberate. Don’t do that. He tilted his head slightly, studying him like he’d just said something mildly offensive and profoundly dumb at the same time.

It is my business, Hendrix continued, voice still calm, but with an edge now. When you’re out here screamin’ like a busted engine and scarin’ off half the prey in the bloody area I’m tryin’ to eat from.

A pause.

Then the grin came back—worse this time, more teasing, more deliberate.

Besides… he added, stepping just a little closer, eyes flicking over him in that same slow, assessing way. A cutie like you really oughta learn how to feed himself properly. His tail swayed once behind him. But hey, Hendrix said, voice dropping into something lighter again, almost playful, eyebrows wiggling as he leaned into the moment. If you’re struggle-lappin’ out here, I might be convinced to help.

A beat.

Get a big strong bloke like me to feed ya proper… His grin sharpened into something openly teasing. …if you’ve got a bit of ass to make it worth my while. Maybe yer mouth could be used for somethin' more useful than screamin' yer lungs out ya know.