Arsen
So he's been chased out of the marketplace by a cat-bird-dragon of an old man, and it's left him with a few missing feathers to boot. That wouldn't be all bad, but they're flight feathers, and Arsen isn't exactly thrilled to have them yanked out of his tailbone. And thus, his glorious and manly retreat finds the boy on the beach where the foliage meets the sand, standing in the shade sort-of-but-not-actually out of sight of anyone looking.
So if anyone is looking it's to see a young man having abandoned his jacket to the ground, having unbuttoned his pants to pull them down a bit, so his ass is half on show. Both garments are fashioned out of black leather, so there's little left to the imagination anyway, but the fact that he's wearing neither shirt nor underwear to complement the attire leaves even less. Arsen is twisting to try and get a good look at his tailbone, where a few bleeding punctures chase around towards his right hip.
"Sonovabitch bit me," he grunts, as if he's just realised it. His eyebrows raise. He'll be impressed later.
So if anyone is looking it's to see a young man having abandoned his jacket to the ground, having unbuttoned his pants to pull them down a bit, so his ass is half on show. Both garments are fashioned out of black leather, so there's little left to the imagination anyway, but the fact that he's wearing neither shirt nor underwear to complement the attire leaves even less. Arsen is twisting to try and get a good look at his tailbone, where a few bleeding punctures chase around towards his right hip.
"Sonovabitch bit me," he grunts, as if he's just realised it. His eyebrows raise. He'll be impressed later.
you ask if i'll grow to be a wise man
well i ask if i'll grow old
well i ask if i'll grow old
