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 Posted: Mon Jul 12, 2010 10:02 pm
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For the most part, all Heavy Sleep could smell was dried mud. He huffed and scraped his hoof against the cracked bank and stared at the water. How could any buck bring himself to roll around in it? His coat bristled, just thinking about it. Heavy Sleep detested unnecessary filth, especially in such quantities. Perhaps it would feel good, normally, but Heavy Sleep couldn't imagine he'd ever get past the initial discomfort of being too dirty to remember what colour his coat was, or where exactly his stripe was hidden.
As he stared at the mud, his eyes shone, even in the sun; their silver glow cast across his face. What a ridiculous hobby, bathing in mud. Why was he there, again? It hadn't been intentional; he had wandered in the wrong direction and wound up at the this pool of mud. He was pretty sure the way home was back where he'd come from, but he wasn't willing to keep trekking through the sun in that heat.
Instead, he had wandered over to the edge of the mud to contemplate its uses. He was bored of that, however, and decided to retreat into some partial shade of a few fallen trees which had become wedged together. He rested there, one ear twitching occasionally, and although he wanted to lay his head down, he didn't want to get any closer to the disgusting caked-mud smell than he had to. He much prefered moist things, like leaf-cover or mossy rocks. They had pleasant, smooth smells, to him. "Mud smells like toasting a kimeti," Heavy Sleep mumbled to himself, scraping one hoof into the ground and huffing.
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Posted: Tue Jul 13, 2010 1:52 pm
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 "What, and you smell like fresh air and daisies?" Nettle's voice was a low, soft grumble, deep and old, shockingly close to Sleep's ear. Perhaps it had been the mud that covered his footsteps, that obscured his movements and let him get so close to the other buck's heels. Perhaps it was his slight frame, skinny and worn out. Or, just maybe, it was the fact that he'd been a snake seconds before, the ghost shape of it still lingering at his feet, fading slowly out to nothing.
Nettle matched the scenery. He was soaked through, heavy with caked mud, his cream-and-grey coat turned darkly brown from the mess. His fur was matted and mussed, his ears flicking wildly to shake away the mess. Through it, however, his eyes shone brightly yellow, light as Sleep's own.
"More like wet goat. Hmmp." |
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Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 12:31 am
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"Mmm? I should hope not. Have you never smelled a daisy, stranger? Plain little things. Unpleasant at best, a topic in which you are surely well-versed." Heavy Sleep rolled his shoulders and flattened his ears against his head, turning to face Nettle. Heavy Sleep thought he looked a little starved, and weathered, of what he could see under the mud. Ugh, the mud; the smell was terribly strong. He didn't quite catch the snake fading by Nettle's feet. He was preoccupied with trying not to gag or edge away from Nettle.
Idly, and in irritation, Heavy Sleep whipped his tail back and forth lazily, brushing his hind legs. He did notice Nettle's glowing eyes, which matched his own as far as the light they cast went. That was essentially where the similarities ended. Nettle was slight and caked in mud, bearded, twisted horns. Heavy Sleep's coat was nearly immaculate, which must have been a feat to achieve while living in a swamp, and his back also glowed, following all the way down his tail. "Wet goat indeed, stranger." Heavy Sleep's nose wrinkled, "That is likely yourself you are smelling. Otherwise, the mud has gone straight to your head." Heavy Sleep's lip curled up in a sort of smirk or smile, although it looked more like he was entertaining himself than trying to anger Nettle.
"We've not met before, I am nearly sure of it. I am named Heavy Sleep. Do you have a term I might address you by, so that I don't need to call you Filthy One?"
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Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 6:55 am
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 There was a moment of silence -- stunned, perhaps, or perhaps beneath the grey-and-brown Nettle was just silent with fury. He stared at Heavy Sleep with his ears gone still, and something about the intensity of his gaze made it clear he wasn't some young buck out prancing, some youth who could be bullied by a pretty face. It was just hard for him to remember it and...
And then his tail thrashed, once, with enough force to send mud splattering across one of Sleep's flanks, an arching spray of droplets that clung heavily to his fur like leeches and slowly oozed their way downward. Nettle affected not to notice. "I don't see any reason why you should address me, child."
Nettle eased into motion, that oozing, ambling, snake-like gait that he had, shuddering more mud from his coat and sloshing it back toward Sleep. "Unless you've come supplicating, and in that case I suggest you call me Wise One." |
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Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 11:13 am
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Heavy Sleep rolled his shoulders and his coat bristled under the mud spatter. He paused, and instead of responding in like, he let out a strangled sound, which could only be Sleep's interpretation of a laugh. He shook his head and rustled his own coat. Well, he'd have to bathe again, now. He loathed trying to find the cleaner water and soft reeds to wash himself, but he hated being dirty even more. Sleep stared at Nettle, at Nettle's burning gaze, and he did recognize the difference in age and experience. Clearly, here was a kimeti to be respected, perhaps even feared. However, Heavy Sleep's nature made it difficult for him to feel those things. His sense of rational fear was absent; he didn't know how to be polite to those who had perhaps earned it. Especially not one covered in mud and being so terribly rude. Actually, Nettle's bad manners made Sleep grin. His eyes, however, remained cold and unmoved, their silvery light calm despite Nettle seemed to be so intent on demonstrating the difference in their strength and rank.
It wasn't in Sleep's nature to feel fear, or increased heart-rate, adrenaline, anything; sometimes he would mess with things that others found frightening, just to see if they could make him afraid. They never had, so why would he start with Nettle? It wasn't that Sleep had extra strength, iron will, experience, power... he had none of those things, really. A moderate amount of strength, of course, but a buck's body, he felt, was built to allow such strength. He enjoyed maintaining that. "And of course since you are all-seeing, there will never be a need for me to address you," Sleep responded, his coat bristling again at the mud. How he loathed it, but he had this opportunity to stay and harrass this stranger. Perhaps Nettle could make him pay, maybe Sleep would learn his lesson. He had nothing else to do, other than bathe, but that would have to wait.
"Clearly I've come to supplicate. It is obvious you are so wise, learned beyond even your years. I mean, you must have been around for quite some time; I can hear your knees creak when you walk, Old one. After that long, even mud must look intelligent, and you had the added advantage of language and a societal structure." Sleep felt he had really outshone himself, this time. His eyes glimmered with entertainment. His enjoyment of this encounter was dampened only by having to avoid the mud sloshing from Nettle; how he loathed mud, he really did. Why did this entertaining creature have to love being somewhere he hated? On the bright side, if Nettle decided to beat him to a pulp, he would probably never see him again; Sleep was not about to go back to these mudholes again on purpose.
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Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 7:44 am
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Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 9:04 am
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Heavy Sleep snorted in turn. What a ridiculous old Kimeti. So he was all bark, no bite; and yet, Sleep found himself liking the sharp-tongued, filthy old kimeti. Perhaps it was the moment when some of the mud slipped off that Sleep eased up. His shoulders, which he had tensed without realizing, relaxed. "Ah, but what fun would that be? So keep your mud, Old one, but I am a kimeti, and I don't particularly enjoy keeping my mouth shut." Sleep took no offense to Nettle. He took a heavy, breath and huffed it out in one sigh. "I much prefer water to mud. I can't even begin to fathom what would make you enjoy mud."
Sleep was kind of girly when it came to his hygiene. He didn't really want to admit it, especially not to Nettle. Nettle really was the picture of an old man, now that Sleep felt less like he was being threatened. Really, he had begun to like Nettle, despite his brain telling him that was a little ridiculous. All the old man had done since meeting Sleep was insult him, stare him down and try to get mud on him. A brief meeting so far. Sleep didn't really know where to go from here, but he followed Nettle, close behind. Why not? Sleep had nothing better to do. He did try to avoid the flaking mud, though.
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Posted: Thu Jul 22, 2010 12:42 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 7:39 am
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"That makes two of us, then." Sleep responded. "Maybe because it's my home, and I don't know any better." Then, shaking his head, he ammended, "Not that this is my home, these mud-puddles. That is definitely not where I want to be." And yet that was where he found himself, avoiding mud shed from a cranky old Kimeti's coat. It wasn't as if Sleep would have approached him any further, had he not made those displays, but Sleep wasn't about to broach the topic. It would probably incite more mud.
"Should I?" Sleep answered Nettle's suggestion with a question, amused. "There's more to the swamp than mud. In case you haven't noticed." True, mud made a sizeable portion of it, but that didn't mean Heavy Sleep had to go bathe in it.
"Are you always this irritable? Perhaps the mud has caked its way around any inclination towards more hospitable emotions."
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 9:42 am
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"There are no 'hospitable emotions' in me for cocky peacocks, for bucks who have exaggerated ideas of their own value, who fear as much as you do." In demonstration of this last, he shook himself out, sent more dried mud flying. At this point he was more grey than brown, the orange flashing through more brightly, and a few good rubs up against a tree would get rid of the rest of it.
"You do not impress me." And speaking of exaggerated ideas -- Nettle said it as if this was important, pausing to consider the statement with his head tilted, tasting the words, and then started away. Slowly, but with obvious intent. He was leaving. Didn't even turn his head to look back at Sleep as he walked away, his shambling snake-like walk.
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