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Post by NEVERLAND. on Dec 8, 2014 2:24:17 GMT
 outta luck, outta time; old-man winter's comin' on ,,
The desolate mountains lay ahead of the Shepard, his gingery eyes feathering the terrain, half-closed and clearly without interest. His tail was hung low, his shaggy tail ever-swaying back and forth as his head stopped to look at the body of a Dalmatian who seemed to be disgusted with a flower which had managed to sprout its way through the coarse dirt and bloom-- What in the world did that dog think she was doing? Killing an innocent flower who had fought to survive in such an environment as this? There had to be something going through that brain of hers that was utterly immoral.
Unfortunately for the immoral-siding man, this dog reeked of a moral sense. Hatter didn't know as to why, exactly, he got the feeling she was siding with anything other than immoral, but he did and he believed it.
It was quite uncommon for Hatter to care for nature. However, that flower had managed to survive in a harsh environment and that dog just... Destroyed all of its hard work. Hatter took a hesitant step toward her, surveying the area once more for any possible threats. There was one other dog he had now spotted-- A female who seemed to be barking at herself or whatever she was chasing. She didn't seem like much of a threat and so Hatter disregarded her for the time being, ready to confront this dog who brutally murdered a perfectly good piece of life.
He continued to approach her, not caring to be polite enough to not make a ruckus. "Oh, dearie, you do realize you are killing a son or daughter to another son and daughter, do you?" he questioned her. His choice of words targeted any being's sense towards life, living things. By calling the flower a son or daughter to another son or daughter, he attempted to penetrate the female's complex set of emotions. She already seemed mopey enough but Hatter still dared to play with that.
His ears flicked back and his eyes lowered slightly as his awaited an answer from the female.
Instead of waiting, however, he went on to say, "My sincerest apologies for the rude introduction. My name is Hatter; also called the 'Mad' Hatter, if you'd prefer." He let out a light chuckle at his own sobriquet, tail's swaying slowing to almost a halt. "By god, woman, do you have no soul? You've killed a living being!"
It was quite random and a rather backward display, his introducation and then expression of surprise. Hatter hadn't anticipated it to be that way. However, it was and that was that.
words. tags. notes if needed. |
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Post by NEVERLAND. on Dec 8, 2014 2:24:29 GMT
[div align="center"][img src="http://i1283.photobucket.com/albums/a543/glass-wire-kite/hatter4_zpsbb995a23.jpg" style="max-width:100%;"]
[div style="width:335px;font-family:georgia;font-size:12px;border:#ccffff solid 15px;background-color:#ccffff;color:#000;"][i]outta luck, outta time; old-man winter's comin' on ,,[/i][/div][/div][div align="center"][div style="width:300px;font-family:verdana;font-size:9px;text-align:justify;text-transform:lowercase;"][span style="color:rgb(0, 0, 0);"]
The desolate mountains lay ahead of the Shepard, his gingery eyes feathering the terrain, half-closed and clearly without interest. His tail was hung low, his shaggy tail ever-swaying back and forth as his head stopped to look at the body of a Dalmatian who seemed to be disgusted with a flower which had managed to sprout its way through the coarse dirt and bloom-- What in the world did that dog think she was doing? Killing an [i]innocent[/i] flower who had fought to survive in such an environment as this? There had to be something going through that brain of hers that was utterly immoral.
Unfortunately for the immoral-siding man, this dog reeked of a moral sense. Hatter didn't know as to why, exactly, he got the feeling she was siding with anything other than immoral, but he did and he believed it.
It was quite uncommon for Hatter to care for nature. However, that flower had managed to survive in a harsh environment and that dog just... Destroyed all of its hard work. Hatter took a hesitant step toward her, surveying the area once more for any possible threats. There was one other dog he had now spotted-- A female who seemed to be barking at herself or whatever she was chasing. She didn't seem like much of a threat and so Hatter disregarded her for the time being, ready to confront this dog who brutally murdered a perfectly good piece of life.
He continued to approach her, not caring to be polite enough to not make a ruckus. [font color="#95B9C7"]"Oh, dearie, you do realize you [i]are[/i] killing a son or daughter to another son and daughter, do you?"[/font] he questioned her. His choice of words targeted any being's sense towards life, living things. By calling the flower a son or daughter to another son or daughter, he attempted to penetrate the female's complex set of emotions. She already seemed mopey enough but Hatter still dared to play with that.
His ears flicked back and his eyes lowered slightly as his awaited an answer from the female.
Instead of waiting, however, he went on to say, [font color="#95B9C7"]"My [i]sincerest[/i] apologies for the rude introduction. My name is Hatter; also called the 'Mad' Hatter, if you'd prefer."[/font] He let out a light chuckle at his own sobriquet, tail's swaying slowing to almost a halt. [font color="#95B9C7"]"By god, woman, do you have no soul? You've killed a living being!"[/font]
It was quite random and a rather backward display, his introducation and then expression of surprise. Hatter hadn't anticipated it to be that way. However, it was and that was that.
[/span][/div][/div][div align="center"][div style="width:320px;font-family:georgia;font-size:10px;border:#ccffff solid 10px;background-color:#ccffff;color:#000;"][i]words. tags. notes if needed.[/i][/div][/div][div style="text-align:center;"][i][font size="1"][a href="http://adoxographyv2.boards.net/user/1299"]NEVERLAND[/a] @ [a href="http://adoxographyv2.boards.net"]ADOXGRAPHY 2.0[/a]![/font][/i][/div]
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