she asked me to throw it away | open

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    Hemlock had been quite inactive, and that just wouldn't do. So he was back around. The male could be seen walking aimlessly through camp in a very lame post.

    tags (updated 9/30)


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    "G-good evening, Hemlock!" His words were muffled through the pigeon he held between his teeth and he dropped it unceremoniously onto the pile of birds he'd been catching. It was something he was good at, grabbing birds, despite his weight and stocky form. Duskheart wasn't built for speed, but he was built to whack things really hard as they tried to fly away. Once stunned the bird was an easy kill and he added it to the collection.
    Good food and he happened to like the feathers too-they were pretty and had a sort of metal sheen to them he found alluring. He had plans to make a necklace or something out of them once he had enough.
    "How...how are you doing today?"
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    INFO & LINKS - UPDATED 10/16


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    "That I am the ill intent..."




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    "Who set upon the traveler on a road he should not have been on."[/fancypost]    		 [align=center]Wilson Fisk
    [color=white][size=8]I'm only a man with a candle to guide me,
    I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.
    A monster, a monster,
    I've turned into a monster
    {Monster by Imagine Dragons}




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    Although he was meeting more members of Darkclan everyday, it seemed as though Duskheart was everywhere as well. He seemed friendly enough, but his intelligence was questionable, and yet Wilson felt something towards the tom, although he couldn't quite place a claw on why. Perhaps it was something to do with his face, or his features, that were so similar yet dissimilar to someone who was very dear to him.




    Hemlock, on the other hand, was a new face to him, outside of the meeting, and he'd never caught the other dog's name. But since Duskheart had beaten him to the punch, calling out Hemlock by name, and then asking a question, Wilson refrained from saying anything.




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    Hem glanced up, his golden eyes following Duskheart. He had known the male as long as he himself had been around Darkclan. Which, unfortunately, hadn't been very long at all. The male had been born here but had left before anyone had a chance to so much as learn his name. He'd spent several months as a loner, adventuring and exploring. He'd learned herbs, fighting techniques and a few other nifty things along the way. However, he had returned after a while, and he had come to know a select few members. Well, actually, mostly all of them.


    As Duskheart asked how he was, Hemlock would snatch himself from his thoughts. Recently he had found he had a problem with paying attention. He had steadily grown more distracted over the last few days, until he was hardly seen around for all his idiotic thinking. How was he? Confused. Guilty. Bored. Lonely. Missing his father. He offered a crooked grin, putting on the façade of his old self. "Hiya, Dusk! I'm doing just fine, how about yourself?" he answered.


    His gaze traveled to the stranger who approached next. He was quiet, which meant he likely thought himself some sort of martyr or such. Hemlock rarely found himself liking such creatures, as they usually had high self esteem and acted as though they were somehow better than the general populous. However, the Lieutenant couldn't very well just ignore his presence. So, grin in tact, the border collie offered a slight incline of his head. "Hello! I'm Hemlock, but most just call me Lock or Hem. What's your name?"

    tags (updated 9/30)


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    "That I am the ill intent..."




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    "Who set upon the traveler on a road he should not have been on."[/fancypost]    		 [align=center]Wilson Fisk
    [size=8]I'm only a man with a candle to guide me,
    I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.
    A monster, a monster,
    I've turned into a monster
    {Monster by Imagine Dragons}




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    Wilson dipped his head. "[color=grey]My name is Wilson, Wilson Fisk. We haven't been properly introduced to each other, and I've seen your face, but couldn't place a name to it. It is good to finally meet you, Hemlock.    " He paused as he considered what to say next. He did not want to come across as rude, or tactless, and yet he wanted to get to know Hemlock more.




    "[color=grey]As you can tell, I'm pretty new here. How long have you lived here for, if I may ask you a personal question," he rumbled as he dipped and tilted his head a bit.




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    text speech


    oh look, he was here again with tensed muscles and an anxious heartbeat brought up by the presence of others. honestly, he wasn't really comfortable with this whole 'social interactions' thing, and he couldn't help but chew on the inside of his cheek as he came to a halt next to his brother, the differences in them subtle -- both were black felines, with scars on their faces, but duskheart was in a man's body while righthook was far more lean and feminine. otherwise, they were practically spitting images of each other. there were some things that led him to believe that this was a bit of an introduction thing, but righthook may not have been good at those.


    maybe.


    anyways, wilson's politeness and niceties implied that he should introduce himself, so not moving from duskheart's side, the boxer would nod to hemlock.


    "righthook. ditto with the maine coon."
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    tags (updated 4/25)

    tags (updated 4/25)

    tags (updated 4/25)