your heart broke when the party died — PRIVATE, SHORTPAW

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[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 460px; margin-top: -6px;][justify][font=georgia]Harriedprints was high.

It was really a given at this point — the polite dhole tended to be under the influence of some drug sixty-nine percent of the time, and now was no different. Inhaling copious amounts of coke and sipping Dom Perignon for a good part of the night was a potentially dangerous mix, but for him, it was simply routine. Some would say that Harriedprints got like this every night to escape his own issues. Perhaps they were right (they were one hundred percent right), but it was something that the fifteen-month old would never admit to himself. Especially — especially after Gemma.

Pupils blown and as high as a kite, the canid coasted drunkenly through ColouredClan's territory, picking up a few fuckbuddies somewhere along the way. It really wasn't far from the norm. Harri would never deny that he was quite promiscuous, no, but the boy had never learned to connect love with sex. Never learned to love, really. That didn't matter now, no. Harriedprints was limp and pliant as an ebony-pelted canine nibbled at his neck, a blue tabby rubbing along his side sensually. Both probably meant to be provocative, but the pretentious bastard didn't feel anything. This — this was simply routine.

/this post is SHIT
i am sorry dude[/justify][size=3pt]spacehere[/fancypost]

/no problem lmao :^))
my ipad is also dying RIP

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[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 460px; margin-top: -6px;][justify][font=georgia]Harriedprints had been entirely zoned out, paying little mind to the two others having their way with him. His mind was drifting, appreciatively blank for once. The dhole was glad to have a distraction, only....only where were his buddies? The rough nibble at his neck had disappeared, no soft feeling of fur rubbing up against his legs. Harriedprints gave a soft grumble, bleary fern oculars finally venturing past the comforting expanse of sky above him. Gaze focusing after a second, Harri was none too pleased to see a short — tiny, really. how could you possibly be that small? — feline charge his two visitors, who ran with tucked tail.

Wait, what?

Before he could even ponder on how this petite stranger had managed to chase off creatures who could beat him to a pulp, Harriedprints was being approached by the swaying tom. The dhole forced a plastic grin upon his features, mistaking this approach for a sexual advance. "You know, it's rude not to wait your turn, love," he murmured to Shortpaw, viridescent gaze flicking over the other's intense blink. Which, what? Harri didn't even know that a blink could be intense, but here he was. "I suppose I can make an exception for you this once — do me a favor and don't chase my......guests away again, hm?" Harriedprints was a second from stretching up languidly to press a kiss to the stranger's lips, but then the tom began swearing.

Swearing loudly, voraciously. Curses spewed from the other's mouth nearly endlessly. Harriedprints stared blankly, the words failing to process. You stink like utter hell. Hm. The dhole let a light frown grace his features. Perhaps it was the scent of alcohol clogging up this tom's nostrils, or maybe the overwhelming smell of pheromones. Either or, Harri couldn't find it in himself to care all that much. All the Exiler wanted was to get this quick fuck over with and stumble back to his home. "Sorry 'bout that, love. Still wanna fuck me? I kind of.....need to get home some, so make this quick?"
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