The rush of adrenaline and the unexpected joy of the game had been just what he’d needed, cheering Jigano immensely as he dashed and leapt through the underbrush, already thinning with the onset of autumn. He hadn’t had any particular plan of where to go, nor much thought for the future. The gourds weren’t fast enough to pose a true threat and he was confident in his ability to lose them once he tired of the chase.
He hadn’t been expecting company, most of his attention focused behind him on his pursuers, and it took a little while before he registered the blond man sitting so still in the clearing. Surprise had him padding to a halt, ears perked in curiosity as he took in the coat – perfect for protection against messy gourd-splatter – and the large polearm.
It would be terribly rude not to introduce himself first… but… an impulse born of wicked humor brought a sparkle to bright blue eyes and he gathered himself and flung his long, lithe body back into motion just as a calabash with two mouths made a roll for his ankles. He kicked it on his way past, small paw barely scratching the thick rind, and made a line straight for the newcomer, tongue lolling in greeting. He slowed to a trot just as he reached the handsome fellow, tilting his head to the side slyly with a mental crow of Base! before leaping over a knee and scampering behind him on light feet.
Unless Rory moved to stop him, the white fox would put his paws on the back of his great coat and bark tauntingly over his shoulder at the gourds, daring them to come get him.
The gourds, seeing only new flesh to grind between their toothy rinds, were happy to oblige, trundling towards Rory with fresh eagerness in malevolently-glowing eye holes.
He hadn’t been expecting company, most of his attention focused behind him on his pursuers, and it took a little while before he registered the blond man sitting so still in the clearing. Surprise had him padding to a halt, ears perked in curiosity as he took in the coat – perfect for protection against messy gourd-splatter – and the large polearm.
It would be terribly rude not to introduce himself first… but… an impulse born of wicked humor brought a sparkle to bright blue eyes and he gathered himself and flung his long, lithe body back into motion just as a calabash with two mouths made a roll for his ankles. He kicked it on his way past, small paw barely scratching the thick rind, and made a line straight for the newcomer, tongue lolling in greeting. He slowed to a trot just as he reached the handsome fellow, tilting his head to the side slyly with a mental crow of Base! before leaping over a knee and scampering behind him on light feet.
Unless Rory moved to stop him, the white fox would put his paws on the back of his great coat and bark tauntingly over his shoulder at the gourds, daring them to come get him.
The gourds, seeing only new flesh to grind between their toothy rinds, were happy to oblige, trundling towards Rory with fresh eagerness in malevolently-glowing eye holes.
