[PRP] Complementary (Contrary & Crimson)

[Melancholies]

Ah.

Contrary honestly found a great deal of solace in nights like this. The sun had been in the sky scarcely a second ago, but now she found herself in the dimness of the swamp. As she came to a clearing she found herself bathed in moonlight, turning to look at the equally blue-washed sky. A contrast, but a gorgeous one if anything.

She had a lot on her mind; often did these days. It had been quite some time since she'd seen her mother—honestly she was surprised she even knew the doe at all. It wasn't until later that she found her answer; something about a clan, something about joining, something about being welcomed. If that was the case, why hadn't she been raised within Westfen in the first place? It was perplexing, but still something to think about she supposed.

With that in mind, she took another step, her tail carefully billowed out behind her. It was a warm feature at least, if not an otherwise useless. She supposed it aided her balance, but really it was just large and too fluffy and a magnet for sticks. How many times had she been caught on a branch? Contrary had lost count.

G a b y

Here you go! Lemme know if this isn't okay :D have fun crimson uhuhuh

 

[gooberfeesh]

It wasn’t that Crimson Tears disliked daylight, for he certainly did. On the contrary: there were many aspects to the day that he genuinely enjoyed. The night, however, invigorated him. The solemn buck often found himself inspired by the shadows and whispers of twilight; they called to him in their muted voices - the crickets chirping, the frogs croaking. It was a timeless and consistent melody that never failed to soothe him.

As always, Reflects Light had departed for the evening. The mongoose left him nightly to forage and hunt and, well…to do whatever it was that mongooses did in their spare time. They would reunite come morning, when the crafty creature would curl atop his head and sleep into the better part of the afternoon.

Without his companion, Crimson Tears wandered aimlessly through the swamp and paused only when he heard movement nearby. He turned in the direction of the sound just in time to see a doe pass by, and ohhh…was she magnificent! A true and wonderful display of color and elegance. Already he could feel his inner poet coming to life, churning eccentric words and painted phrases.

“Sunset colors of radiance, basking in warmth and clay-bathed splendor…”

Melancholies

It's perfect! 8D I hope mine works for you~

 

[Melancholies]

Her mother, Shameless, might have been quite the hunter, but it seemed that keen sense hadn't yet passed (perhaps never would) to her daughter. Contrary heard not a sound in the muffled expanse of the swamp, save the occasional croak from a frog or flutter of insect wings. No, most of the sound was coming from her own footsteps...

Except, it seemed they weren't solely her footsteps after all. Cursing her own folly under her breath, she startled at the intrusion of another. The pale white buck caught her off guard completely—honestly she could hear a smarmy remark from her mother now on her lack of awareness, but the fact remained that mother had no say in any of her own personal matters. At least not in the moment.

There were more important things. Like what this buck was saying.

...seriously, what was he prattling on about? Despite the quiet (though very notable jump), Contrary found herself eased into a more steady, if not perplexed composure. The tenseness was still visible in her legs. The annoyance and confusion on her face more so.

"...Pardon?" it was the best she could say without sounding dismissive, though the expression she wore said otherwise. After all, it wasn't a nightly occurrence that a buck suddenly showed up to spout poetry at whoever would seemingly listen.

G a b y

 

[gooberfeesh]

Oh. Oh goodness. He’d done it again, hadn’t he?

One would think that after countless embarrassing moments and several confused, annoyed, and understandably weirded out reactions from does and bucks alike, Crimson Tears would have learned a better sense of self-control (especially when it came to his impromptu poetic exclamations). He really needed to work on his timing. Or his social skills. Or both.

“Ah…do forgive me,” he apologized, hoping that he could somehow amend the situation or redeem his character. Either would be wonderful. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Nor did I mean to…” He paused, thinking of the correct phrasing to avoid further confusion. “…say such strange things.”

There. Hopefully he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself and the entire ordeal could be rectified. Either that or he would be dismissed, in which case he'd carry on and pray that he didn't bother someone else.

Melancholies