Pouring Whiskey

Rain, rain and more rain.

The travel here had not been exactly the adventure of a lifetime, often stuck at inns or hiding under trees on hills to not get washed away by the floods in the Braid especially they had to traverse to get so far North. She had hoped it would ease up once they passed those lands, that wasn’t their fortune. The deluge was endless, and she was happy she was somewhere she could keep her head dry as she nuzzled into some linens thrown along the castle grounds where she had grown up and lived most her life. It was peculiar to be here without the parties spread from wall to wall, but it was more pleasant than having to deal with the friends that mom would have over all the time when she was a puppy.

A sigh escaped her lungs, flopping around with her butt in the air to get all the spot on her shoulders and face as best she could so her fur wasn’t so damp. It was quite the spectacle thankfully no one would be witnessing beyond the sound of her tossing and turning to get every inch dry. “Need any elp?” she called while looking between her legs, upside-down at the man that she would think was trying to dry off too. She couldn’t imagine he would want to be out of sorts before any interaction with her parent this abode belongs to.

Her booty swished back and forth a few more times before it came down with the rest of her body, rubbing her back childishly now without any etiquette in her amazon sized bones. “Haven’ walked so long in a time, my feet be sore as anything,” she mostly complained to herself but kept her eyes on him the whole time, curious if his paws were hurting from having to go from one side of the map all the way to the other, here in the more leafy land of Perth.

Somber.

That is all one could use to describe the lands they traversed for what felt like eons, the rains never ending as they sought to wash away the very earth beneath their paws to leave behind nothing but filth. Oh how he hated the way mud squelched between his toes, how even the slightest misstep may send him slipping straight into the sludge. A part of him nearly thinking to ask Bellatrix to carry him, to keep paws so unused to these distances from growing raw or weary yet the starlit judge kept his mouth shut when it came to such requests. However, that did not mean he was silent for one was sure to offer his fair share of complaints.

Picking at the hovels these wolves called inns, how the bedding was ill suited for one of his pedigree; bemoaning when it came to sleeping beneath the canopies whenever proper shelter could not be reached. Every annoyance that plagued him, well, Bellatrix was sure to hear of it until at long last they’d settled within the confines of her family home. A crumbling castle their ancestors had no doubt lain claim to long before she’d ever been born. If he could have beheld it for himself - surely it held at least some extravagance.

Fanciful displays to beautify what would be nothing but cold stone without select decorum. Surely at least one in the Buenaventura family had taste. What one remained blind to did not hold focus for long as ears pricked up to the snorts and shifting weight of the autumnal woman. Luckily for her Mithras could not see the ridiculous stance she took to gaze upon him, a world turned upside down to behold the little judge. “I am quite capable of drying myself off thank you,” though it would be a task made a lot easier if heat could lick his skin. If the embers of a warming flames lay stoked, surely a fire place existed in a familiar abode.

Grumbling to himself paws attempted to smooth a ruffled coat with little success as clinging moisture dared to puff fur back up the drier he managed to get it. Leaving wild tresses to stick up in unappealing ways even as he strode closer to where another gracelessly flopped about. He could not deny the way paws and limbs alike ached though it would not stop the subtle tease, “At least with your legs it’s easier to cover such distances.” Instead of chasing after lengthy steps with far shorter strides. At least this would all be worth it once the elixir of Laisren’s wine flowed over his tongue.

This time, hopefully one as large as their daughter would keep paws to themself. Mithras could still feel the air being squeezed from his lungs the last time that wolf attempted to show ‘parental affections’. Sure, if that’s what they wanted to call it. Tilting a crown lightly toward her, a query laced his breath, “Is your guardian home? Or is there time to freshen up with more than… whatever you are doing.” Flopping and rolling about on the floor, surely disheveling herself further than rains alone had as well as the rug nestled beneath them both now wrinkled.

(This post was last modified: 09-10-2024, 09:27 PM by Mithras.)

Her tail would sway back and forth as she looked at him past her spread legs, having to keep it out of her way so she might see the small man speak, curious if he would accept or not. Of course he wouldn’t, saving her from having a mouthful of fur and later any furballs that she could hack up like an oversized kitty. “Ya mean ya don’t want to be covered in spit?” she laughed, standing upright as she spoke, circling him a few times while running as if it would help her drive off a little faster. It was probably driving him insane to hear the patter of her paws and clanking of her nails as they scraped aggressively into the wood and stone that lined the floor they stood upon. As she came to a stop, she gave one last dramatic shake, flicking the remaining beads right off her pelt in a rather sparkly display where light hit each droplet.

She would entirely miss his little jest, her ears twitching as she tried to flick them dry as well, not enjoying having wet ears even if they didn’t work. Once she was as dry as she bothered to get, she would sit in front of him, tilting her head as he stood closer to her, seeming as though he wasn’t so disgusted by her presence as he had been half a year ago. She panted, out of breath from her little exercise to get dry as her nose wiggled at the smell of meat someone in the abode. “I’m sure they are somewhere, if not they be creepin somewhere in the forest. Tidy yeself up as much as ya want, you are a weee bit fluffy right now,” she giggled, moving a paw closer toward him with intent to fluff a cheek but stopping just shy of his face before retracting the appendage from his personal bubble.

“Ye sure ya don’t want any elp? This is the most out oh sorts I’ve seen ya our whole marriage. Unlike the Mainlands, there isn’t a Kaveh to call upon round ere to aide ya. Purdy frowned upon in the Highlands to have servants so I’ll be if need be. Am at ye service,” she added after a short pause. Her dear maid of her own had been her mother’s doing and with her gone it would be highly unlikely anyone else had taken up as help around the home. Not that it was legal to own a slave anywhere, but it seemed far more common in the south to have wolves like that. She didn’t mind it one bit, perhaps because she grew up with someone at her heels every moment of the day that it was just natural so she didn’t question the ways her cultural heritages clashed. “Plus, you ain’t so against me touch lately,” she teased as she leaned closer, curious if he would get flustered or keep his usual demeanor.

She wouldn’t linger in his bubble long, respecting his wishes on not making contact without an okay first. What she would do, however, was grab a linen she hadn’t rolled in to drape him with, grinning with anticipation for wanting to watch him lose some composure to copy her. “Ya should try it, it really works out some kinks and I’m sure ye be cute doin it.”