westwhere | sand in your eyes

sand in your eyes

And onwards, through the cursed desert. The mini-journey Arc covers 6-21 January and doubles as a test drive meme. Participants do not need an invite to apply this round. Have fun!

SAND IN YOUR EYES

TEST DRIVE TOURISTS | ONE SAND WASHES THE OTHER
A HOUSE UNITED WILL SAND | SOILMATES | A PYRAMID SCHEME

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A SANDING OVATION

Sand in your eyes, down your throat, stifling. You wake half-buried in high dunes, crawling towards helping hands. Thirst vanquishes you.

You are quickly offered a translation and communication pendant and introduced to the leader of the caravan that saved you — good Mazyar, who thanks the stars for your most incredible luck to be rescued by his generous and humble self. For he is not a man for idle praise, but he has sold salt to salt makers, he was courted by seven of the five great trade guilds and brought peace to the Stairs of Sighs…

Mazyar reveals you are in Akhuras, where undead lieges seek to weaponise you in their war for dominion. Mazyar’s good but less successful friend, the elusive Merchant ferries otherworlders east, where ancient beacons can transport them home.

Retire for now and regain your strength. Come morning, further otherworlders will arrive from Serthica — and your journey may begin.

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ONE SAND WASHES THE OTHER

The veteran party reunites with newcomers in the desert, and with the merchant Mazyar — who once guided them through the Stairs of Sighs. His caravan is protected by the Scavengers —deathly a tribe of hardened desert raiders. They bring water flasks, supplies, cooling suits and tents to share. Their snail-like carriage mounts can transport the weak.

You are bound for the seized citadel of Alem, swarmed on each side by undead battalions. To access it, you must obtain one of the enormous sand worms that trawl the deserts, which can be deployed to create underground passageways.

The Scavengers will lead the caravan through haunted dunes, the worms’ traditional hunting grounds and temple-fortress Uruksithar.

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A HOUSE UNITED WILL SAND

The group first reaches the Valley of Unchaining, bordered by high cliffs and fang-like stones. Here and there, discover bloodied footprints, half-buried shackles and red chains. You might even stumble upon an eroded tombstone inscribed, H R SL EP THE UNCH IN D. At its feet are dulled dagger blades and rough calcar stone.

COULD DIE FROM LAUGHTER

You fool, never eat alone. Happen by the camp’s outskirts with your dinner, and you might glimpse the silhouettes of starved desert hyenas, their eyes glistening green. They will come close if you bear raw meat or bleeding wounds.

■ Scavengers say, if you see the hyenas, throw them food or a cloth drenched in fresh blood, then run without looking back until you no longer hear their cruel cries.

■ Some hyenas mimic rasped human voices, begging help or calling your name. One feeble hyena wears a chain of red shackles around its neck.

■ If you look back while chased, you find the green stare of the hyenas fixed upon you. You are gradually overcome by starvation, violence and the urge to dismember prey and feast on raw flesh. Player’s choice on whether characters can resist this compulsion, which disappears at dawns, or if they taste blood.

■ Scavengers will deny you entrance into the camp if you appear possessed in this way.

SANDIMENTAL VALUE

You walk the Valley, Scavengers say, and Mother Death walks with you. A once handsome crone might appear beside you, bare-footed and dressed in clean linens. She remains silent unless spoken to and flinches if you move suddenly, as if she fears being struck.

■ Treat the Crone kindly, and she entrusts you with a small pouch holding a fraction of her ashes, which she wants scattered from the hills.

■ Use rope and climbing hooks and take cover behind stone formations. Beware the violent sand whirlwinds that batter the cliffs, threatening to plunge you down or choke you with sand.

■ If you succeed, the Crone appears to watch her scattering ashes and bless you with good luck for the rest of your journey. Your kindness, she says, reminds her of her daughter.

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SOILMATES

The three-day walk to Uruksithar traverses the sand worms’ hunting grounds, where dunes shift periodically in sharp, tectonic waves. Watch your step and don’t be surprised if your tent sinks at night.

■ The Scavengers organise daily reconnaissance parties in the desert hills. Stay with them to unbury dune treasures.

■ The brave & brazen can try to catch sand worms. The massive creatures erupt overground periodically, catching prey in their large mouths, or crushing it beneath their heft as they plunge in the depths — creating large sinkholes in the process.

■ On its back, each sand worm has a few darker scales that draw the shape of a rune. To tame a sand worm, you must find its rune, then write the symbol on the worm’s back using blood from your hands. Report your catch by 23:59 on 17 January!

■ The sand worm bonds with you for three weeks until the next full moonrise, or until you draw the same rune on your cut hand.

■ Those who secure a sand worm find it grudgingly follows them underground for the rest of the journey. The creature can only be steered or ridden.

■ Some sand worms are vicious, old and sufficiently magical to retaliate by taking the link over and forcing their bonded humans to experience their lives — briefly sensitive to light and strong sounds, or unable to speak. Some might experience mild fevers. All symptoms disappear when the bond breaks.

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A PYRAMID SCHEME

At last, welcome to Uruksithar, former jewel of the desert — now reduced to rusted gates and tattered walls of wind-lashed stone.

The abandoned palace-fortress features a row of minor temples and barren gardens that surround a great, ruinous pit. The state of residential furnishings suggests the grounds were lived mere years prior. Walk north to find a a large pool of thickened black water that exudes a cold, unsettling presence. Veteran party members know what to expect.

Nail scratches on some temple walls read, we, who did not sleep or i ask the wind to grieve our chains. By the pit, a stone plate helpfully says, drop by drop, even base water turns to poison.

The Scavengers disperse to raid the temples, advising you to carry water everywhere. One raider mentions that the local Temple of Ra’esh stores silver waters that can woo sand worms.

OCTOPUS PRIME

Uruksithar’s great gong strikes every two hours, to groans and shudders from the abyssal pit. Scavengers immediately take cover behind walls, bind themselves to columns or rush into crumbling residences.

■ For five minutes, as the gong sounds a pathetic dirge, a bouquet of tentacles erupts from the pit, sweeping nearby streets to capture living things.

■ Throwing water on the tentacles forces them to retreat, while black liquid from the northern pool burns them down. Further tendrils emerge until the gong quiets.

■ Should you fall into the pit, use your climbing hooks to latch onto the walls and don’t look down. A grotesque, sharp-toothed mouth awaits below to devour you, amid the squelching sounds of the tissue and material it has been masticating for decades. It won’t give up its lunch easily.

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TOMB AND GLOOM

Ra’esh the Bright-maker, he who saw but peace beneath the skies. His humble temple is anonymous among numerous worship grounds. Scavengers say, four years ago, a wanderer sculpted an eye with a sun for a pupil on the entrance door. Take a torch and head in.

■ Long-stripped of its glory, the maze-like Temple of Ra’esh is now cold stone, stale window-less corridors and heavy doors that snap down from the ceiling.

■ Distant susurrations of water point you towards your destination.

■ As you walk in, pay attention to the engravings near the entryway of each temple room. Some depict arrows, forecasting spikes will burst up from floors tiles. Sculpted drops hint pouring water in this spot will open a door. Open a door with an engraving of large serpents, and… well. The engravings can help characters navigate the maze and completely avoid its traps. Feel free to make up your own engravings & traps, if you want!

■ The altar room contains a pool with pearlescent waters that surround a woman fully bandaged in gauze, her sight obscured. She is bound to a column with chains and shackles akin to those found in the desert. Rare peeks of her skin show it rotting or sickly pale.

■ She asks either if you are her mother, come for her at last. Do you engage?

■ Take water from the pool, and you can lure a sand worm to you once you have exited Uruksithar. Hazed, but sweet-tempered, it will follow you underground and allow you to ride it for the three weeks until the next full moonrise. These sand worms won’t give you a hard time during the bond period. Report your worm too by 23:59 on 17 January!

NOTES

■ Test driving & in-game characters can top level logs here — test driving characters can also put up network posts in this space c:

■ Feel free to investigate the mystery of the chains and shackles, but no pressure — it’s not critical to Arc V.

■ Hit up NPCs!

■ Navigation top.

QUESTIONS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I try not to.

[What he wants almost more than anything right now is a bath. Just a nice soak in a hot spring - hell, even a cold spring would do the trick. Kanesada heaves out a sigh and props his chin up on his arm.]

I should have taken advantage of everything back at that inn way more than I did. Their proper beds, too. And, like, that's a way better idea for...for passions. You have the right idea, not the ground or whatever.

[He speaks with honesty, but some of his dreary mood is undoubtedly brought on by his discomfort. A little bit of whining for the sake of whining. Not too much, though! He's not going to have people think he's utterly incapable of taking care of himself. Of course, he can!]

Hey, I'm fine with roughing it. Just...not in a desert. I know there's a desert back in Japan, but I've never been to it. I don't think it's all that big, anyway, so it's easy enough to stay away.

[Licyn gives no preamble before he tosses a bit of kit to Kanesada. He sits up in time to catch it, thankfully, and feels a wave of relief wash over him. Finally, he can take care of himself, at least a little. His pride be damned, that's the important part.

Except, well, he does still have his pride.]

Eh?! Weeks? You never offered!

I've avoided deserts. Not finding myself inclined to seek out any more, between here and the mess outside Serthica I avoided.

( this is a land to cling to survival in, but he was born in the mountains, he knew them first, and lands dried to sands and dust remain the strangeness to him that even a frozen highlands cannot contest.

izumi's apparent outrage, such as it is, has him grin. the laughter that follows has his eyes lighting up, his canines too clearly exposed. )

You never asked.

If we never see another desert again, it'll still be too soon.

[The laughter at his expense nearly makes Kanesada get up and leave. He wants to go into one of the tents and get working on his sword sooner rather than later, but he shakes his head instead.]

Yeah, yeah, hilarious.

[He picks up his sheathed sword and gently pokes Licyn in the side with it, regardless.]

...Thanks, though.

( he grunts, as if the gentle poke (or even a hard one) would be enough to elicit the respone, lifting his eyebrows and making the thinnest pretense of looking offended. )

What thanks? Here you are, prodding me for gifts? What an appetite you have, love!

( said as he casually bats at the sword sheath, more or less to 'shove' it back izumi's way. )

There's gratitude for you, and you're welcome.

Hm.

[Despite taking his sword back, Kanesada scoots a little closer to Licyn.]

And here I was hoping you'd be a bottomless pit.

[He's not being serious, of course, even if it would be nice for Licyn to turn into a depository of cleaning kits whenever he was needed.]

...You sure there's nothing I can do? If not now, then find me later or something. I'm serious.

( he hums, a sound that rumbles low in his throat as he considers. there are bottomless pits to him, he knows it, but endless giving of gifts that aren't pleasures delivered by hand and mouth and various parts of his anatomy is not among them. or endless sword maintenance supplies; those he's simply well stocked in out of long years trained necessity. )

Brush me.

( he says instead, lips pulled up into that suggestive little smile. it doesn't matter if he suggests anything or not. he intends to be what the suggestion delivers: nothing worth thinking hard on. a harmless flirt, when not employed to be otherwise. )

Nose to tail. A hundred strokes, isn't that the usual number?

Oh.

[He's not sure what he was expecting, good or bad. Brushing Licyn? That seems so simple. Maybe a little weird because...wolf, but also he's a tsukumogami so it's not that weird. And dogs like to be brushed, right? So it's not even all that surprising, either.

...Kanesada hasn't ever brushed a dog before, though, let alone a wolf. Surely it can't be that hard?]

Get the sand out, huh? Sure. If it takes a hundred strokes, then fine. If it takes more, that's fine, too, I guess.

[Kanesada exhales and stands up, gathering his sword and new bit of supplies.]

I've just got the one brush, though. Your nose or tail better not take it out of commission, yeah?

( licyn stays seated, blade across his lap. he laughs, another low, rumbling sort of chuckle that seems almost like it should be an invitation itself, and arches both eyebrows again, tongue briefly running over his lower lip. )

Now love, what are you imagining me doing, with a warning like that?

( the sincerity of the question exists alongside his certainty that it's simply saying don't break it, but at that point, what is he? a pup to gnaw on the brush, or a dog true to wag his tail so hard to break it? mildly amusing, certainly insulting if he were any other wolfen, but he's himself, and so he stays amused. )

I only bite when asked, and you'd have to do a fair bit more than that to get me wagging my tail for you.

I'm saying I have the one brush and if it gets busted, I'll be pissed. You've seen what I have to deal with.

[He gestures to his hair, though it's been braided and put up out of the way. And maybe it's a little worse for wear after their traipsing across the desert, but that's not the point. A lot of hair. He has a lot of hair.]

I'll give you a really good belly rub.

[What does that even mean? It doesn't matter. Kanesada reaches out to ruffle the top of Licyn's head real quick before pointing across the way.]

My tent's over there, whenever you're ready. It's time to clean my sword now.

[And then he's off to do just that.]

( Mark both brows raised high, Licyn not batting at the hand that ruffles his hair because for the life of him he wished these inexperienced flirts were not. He snorts out a laugh as Izumi leaves, muttering to himself: )

Maybe I should make an exception.

( A little nipping only hurt people with paper thin skin and no sense of humour, after all.

Be that it is, eventually, he shows up, human, at the tent in question. Even knocks on the fabric by the entrance, which is politeness rather than necessity. )

Here I come calling, you haven't fallen asleep on me, have you?

[As much as Kanesada likes talking to Licyn, as soon as he gets to the tent, he buckles down and focuses on sword maintenance. Sure, being in said tent keeps most of the elements away, but as they discussed, sand still manages to get everywhere somehow. So he works quickly, but still diligently.

He doesn't have all the tools he needs, but he makes do. It's been too long since he's done this so all that matters is that he gets something accomplished. Still, when it's finally time to oil the blade, he can't help the sigh of relief that passes through his lips as he spreads it across the steel and wipes the excess away. Things feel right again. He feels so much better physically. Finally. Finally.

When Licyn comes to his tent, he just shakes his head.]

Of course not. Come in.

[He sits cross-legged on the floor of the tent with his blade across his lap, though he's currently sliding the hilt back onto the tang. Taking a small peg resting on a cloth beside him, he slips it into the corresponding hole to hold the whole thing together. In lieu of a hammer, he takes his pendant and gently taps the peg in more firmly. Then, he does it again with the second peg before he's totally satisfied and sheathes the blade entirely.]

You gonna fall asleep on me?

( He stops and balances, pulling his boots off to avoid tracking in their extraneous dust. Once barefoot, he catches the process of the blade being reassembled; it's an interesting process, so different from the blades more popular in the regions he's worked in. )

Generally considered poor behaviour for a night visitor, isn't it?

( His tone amused, as he works at starting to shed the loaned robes piece by piece. He can shift in clothing, but it damages or traps him, and nothing about that is beneficial to himself. Delays can be life or death.

He folds his layers and sets them to the side as he goes. )

[Kanesada sees Licyn take his boots off at the "door" and can't help but smile a little. The act is probably done out of practical care than anything, but it's familiar enough to what he's used to culturally that it feels really nice to see.

Yeah. Licyn's all right.]

Guess it depends on the night.

[Sword sheathed, he gently sets it to the side before cleaning up everything else. All the while, the rustle of shed clothing is heard and he can't help but glance over to see Licyn's progress. Right. Seems like he's just getting down to it. Which is...fine? It's not as if Kanesada hasn't seen other men naked before; he lives in a whole citadel with, like, at least thirty other swords. They're bound to see each other in states of undress in one way or another.

So why does he feel kind of...fluttery? Nervous? Human bodies really are so weird sometimes. Inconvenient, too.

He clears his throat and moves to his belongings to find his brush.]

Have you always been able to change into a wolf or did something happen? Just curious.

( Licyn continues his unhurried undressing, unselfconscious as he strips down to skin. Unless Izumi looks away, he's about to get a full frontal eyeful, along with the merry evidence of the happy trail of hair leading from Licyn's navel down to his pubis. )

Why would something need to happen? Unless you mean am I cursed, love, like O heard some were in whatever island the company was on before the pirate ship adventure.

( Wry toned, at that. He works at untying the queue in his hair. )

I'm wolfen. I was born this way. As natural as breathing for the likes of you and me.

[Brush acquired, he turns back just in time to get an eyeful of Licyn. Really, he should have known better or been better prepared. He averts his eyes as quickly as they landed on the sight, first off to the side at nothing, but then up to Licyn's face. It's fine!]

Yeah, like...like a curse or something. I think there are stories from other places where it involves getting bitten, too.

[He taps the handle of the brush against his lips.]

Glad you're not cursed. That would suck.

( when he looks to Licyn's face, he's met with a knowing sort of suggestive grin. not that Licyn says anything, just rolls his shoulders and stretches a little. he can't talk to most people as a wolf, so for the sake of last conversational tidbits, he doesn't yet suffuse with the silver glow of his shifting. )

I'm in favour of biting in a welcomed context, and I'll happily reassure you no one's ever turned into anything they weren't already inclined toward after.

( he snorts at the glad he's not cursed, finishes stretching, and lets the change flow through him: his form seems to glow a sort of silver, not bright in any striking way, but obscuring, softening, almost fuzzily so. within that he goes from standing tall, naked, and human, to a creature sharing his mass standing on hind paws, falling neatly onto all four. as the silver sheen recedes, as abruptly as an exhalation, Licyn stands there, reddish fur in full glory, eyes the rich amber this form reflects more than his darker, human gaze. his tongue lolls out for silent amusement, and he pads over to Izumi, nudging his way into the man's (... metal smelling man, as always) lap. or as much as he can get away with, starting with his head's heft seeking prime home right there. )

Edited 2023-02-04 07:38 (UTC)

Oh, good. But if you get bitey with me, try not to ruin my skin, yeah?

[Okay. Licyn is right there in front of him, not caring a bit about his current appearance, and he can't help but steal another glance in these scant moments before transformation. Licyn is attractive; that much has always been evident by his face alone, but his body as a whole isn't anything to scoff at, either.

And then when he starts to shift Kanesada definitely can't look away, but more out of curiosity and fascination this time. It's something he never sees back home so he takes in what is freely offered, all the way until the wolf appears fully.

Kanesada's lap isn't small by any means, but neither is Licyn in this shape. His head takes up the most real estate, but his front legs sneak in there, too. And he's definitely a solid weight on top of Kanesada's legs, but he keeps that complaint to himself and instead reaches out to pet the wolf's head a few times. Those big ears, too. He can't resist them.]

Your ears are really soft. It's cute.

So ruining the rest of you's acceptable, is it?

( the fading, final quip, and then all he is becomes furry, fluffy, guard hairs and thick, glorious undercoat. the pets earn a twitch of one ear, then their flick after izumi's hands stroke their furred length. it's endemic to people, licyn finds, this need to touch what is perceived as soft, or cute, or different from themselves. he doesn't care or mind, in fact butting his head into izumi's hand. more.

the ears in question twist so that one can properly listen to izumi's voice, licyn canting his head to keep one eye focussed on izumi's face. he has no trouble reading expression regardless of his form, even when colours shift some as a wolf compared to his human eyes. scent is a much more rich landscape, and he huffs, moving his tail in less of a wag than indication that he appreciates the compliment.

now, pet his ears more. more. )

[He sighs and shakes his head. Of course Licyn had to get the last word in. Whatever that last word really means.

But the petting continues and that includes giving Licyn's ears a few more good rubs. They really are soft and kind of addictive to touch, as is the rest of Licyn, when he finally moves away from those ears. There aren't really any pets at the citadel back home, though the fox Konnosuke certainly receives his fair share of attention as he does his rounds. Some of the swords manifest with companions, but it's not very common.]

I kinda like you like this.

[It's said with a little smirk, just a tease. Kanesada likes animals well enough - well, except maybe the horses, but he swears they silently judge him, what with their giant, bottomless eyes - but he doesn't spend a lot of time interacting with too many. This is...nice. And Licyn is a wolf, to top it off! Wolves have been extinct in Japan for a few centuries at his point and when he was just a sword it wasn't as if he was in contact with any, either.

He'll keep that detail to himself. He doubts Licyn would want to hear about it.

Instead, he finally picks up the brush and starts at the top of Licyn's head, between those tempting ears, and moves with the direction of the fur.]

The group I was with, back home. They were called the Shinsengumi. But they also got the nickname of the Wolves of Mibu. It's derogatory. If I'm honest, the men could be pretty fierce. They shed a lot of blood while they were active. Maybe the people they killed deserved it, maybe they didn't, but that's what happened.

[The brushing moves onward, over the back of Licyn's head and behind his ears, down toward his neck.]

It's probably because of the name and the fact that those men and my friends from it are all pretty tight-knit, like a pack, I guess, but I've grown to like wolves. We call ourselves wolves sometimes, but more positively, to take the name back, in a way.

[He pauses, hand freezing for a moment, too, before he pulls it away to tug free the fur he's brushed out.]

Ah...hope that's not weird to tell you about. I don't know what came over me.

( he huffs out an exhalation at the comment about only kinda liking him like this. he doesn't often spend extended time with people in wolf form, aside from rillin; rillin, who was doing who knew what back home. he doesn't understand how the gateways really work, has heard it said they seem to step back into their lives as if they hadn't left.

he doesn't think about it. operating around the gaping hole that rillin's absence leaves for him is why he persists in being close to the people of this chaotic group. none of them need be friends. few of them are, at times. companions at best, and some blessed with marriage to tie their bonds close.

pack. he knows izumi doesn't understand the quiet parallels to licyn's own meandering thoughts, doesn't understand the implications, how it hits differently for a wolfen. pack isn't a simple term. pack is a necessity of survival, of sanity. it makes whatever death dealers izumi worked with be little more than tangles brushed out of his coat like the loose fur from his early shedding of winter coat for leaner summer one. claiming wolf as negative, or positive, it's all nonsense to him.

but he flicks his ears, he nuzzles his face into izumi's stomach, and he allows his tail to thump once in a lazy, slow, and heavy move: encouragement. he doesn't mind listening. like this, it's what he does. getting brushed out is the pleasure, and the sound of another person's voice, the proximity. toxic for a fractured whole.

so please, speak on about the group he doesn't know and never will beyond izumi's words. tell him of wolves in other lands, as if they're anything like him, and let him soak up the attention, because the alternative is the quiet and the not distant enough laughter of the accursed hyenas, the silence of an empty tent, and no consolation, no contracts, no actionable plan beyond never stop moving.

it's a silly name, he thinks. wolves don't kill for sport. they don't kill for anger. that's what man's influence does, and is why the wolfen are dangerous beyond any wolf whelped in the whole of any world. a human enough mind, a wolf enough soul. humans were jealous in your home, weren't they? of better, faster, more frightening predators than they were without the right tools. bear your fangs, nip at their bellies, tear out their livers, that sort of thing. the strong survive until something stronger kills them off. )

[Licyn gets a quick scritch between his ears, both in response to his huff and just out of an urge to do it. The brushing picks up again, this time down Licyn's back where the fur is coarser. It's more protective that way, he guesses, an animal's form of natural armor, however simplified. Or maybe he's reading too much into it.

As his hands pass over that fur, though, he gets glimpses of a memory, of a wolf dragging him back onto a shitty elevator out of a shitty hallucination to go up a shitty tower. He knows now that that wolf was Licyn, and how the fur he had clung to was the very same he brushes now. He hopes he didn't hurt Licyn then. He'll pet that fur a few times in silent apology, just in case, as if soothing old hurts is going to change anything.]

The Shinsengumi was defeated a long time ago, though. They're all dead now.

[Extinct, like the Japanese wolf.

Except there's him. There's still him and the other swords in the citadel with Shinsengumi ties. His partner. His friends. All of them pains in the ass, but the closest thing he could have to physical family. Even more than other blades that share the Kanesada name or were formed by that school.

The brush glides along Licyn's side, now. Kanesada should tell him. Tell him he's not human, either, since Licyn has made his form clear, but he feels like doing so in this situation, when the other man is a wordless wolf in his lap, is cowardice. It's not quite right. His friend deserves more respect than that.

So. He arrives at a compromise of sorts.]

...My name is Izuminokami Kanesada. There were a couple of guys in our group before who would have recognized that name, so...that's why I've just been Izumi. But they're gone now, too, and it's not like anyone else around here knows anything about me or Japan so why should I keep hiding, huh? Out here it doesn't really matter, anyway.

[A laugh leaves his lips, relief evident in the way he breathes back in.]

Man. It feels good to say that again. Izuminokami Kanesada.

( His ear flicks in acknowledgement of the name, the confession that is relatively meaningless, beyond reasserting a truth for a belief Licyn's had for months. Izumi was an incomplete name, but not a true lie, all things told. A shortening of what was.

He can respect that, even as it's nonsense in his ears, only explained when people break down their names to mean anything. His chosen surname was both apparent and not: Mansbane. Nonsense syllables strung together for a particular meaning.

The relief in Izuminokami Kanesada's breath in prompts Licyn into lifting his head, a lazy lathing of his tongue over the man's chin and jaw and neck and below the ear followed by a wet nuzzle of his nose, and the return to allowing himself the pleasure of being brushed through. It's rare, even back home, because Rillin isn't the sort to need busy work for his hands, and he usually has to find someone overfond of canines to provide the same pleasant oasis on his travels. Usually the young. They're always more enthusiastic, and he, unscrupulous enough to appreciate that in its innocence. )

[He'll blame his slow reaction time on his overflowing relief, so Licyn is able to lick Kanesada's skin to his wolf heart's content. It's a lot of licking, though, and Kanesada lifts his hands to wipe the saliva away, even as he can't stop himself from laughing about it. A huge difference from what happened in that cursed elevator.]

Hey, hey, I get it. I'm still really pretty.

[He rubs his hands over Licyn's face again, scratching between his ears and rubbing them again before lifting his wolf head closer.

It must be a bone-deep human urge that overtakes him next, because he bends down to press a simple kiss to Licyn's furry forehead. A surprise to himself, but Kanesada shakes it off as quickly as he can.]

Who said you were allowed to be this cute, huh? Pretty sure it wasn't me.

[Right. Right! He still has to finish the brush job, though, and he picks up said brush again to get on with it.]

( Licyn delivers the slowest blink after the forehead kiss, amused enough to thump his tail again for a lazy, audible wag. Back in Kanesada's lap, he eventually squirms himself around enough that he presents his neck, chest, and stomach for brushing and petting and attention, his paws folded over so he could give the cutest, least defended look up at the one combing his fur as he possibly could.

That he lets his mouth open just enough to give a canine grin and cants his head is overkill in selling it, on purpose. Pet all of me. )

[Kanesada can't help but grunt as Licyn shifts onto his back, all his weight still situated right there in his lap, but he doesn't stop the wolf. Instead, when he's settled and being so cheeky, Kanesada just shakes his head, albeit fondly.]

Unbelievable.

[He tugs more fur free of the brush, but before he continues, he scratches the wolf's chin. And when he finally gets to brushing Licyn's neck, he starts to hum a tune, his strokes with the brush more languid, a little more relaxed. He still does his appointed job, though, petting the areas he's worked on to make sure the fur lays right and feels softer before moving down to Licyn's chest, working in between those silly front paws.]

sand in your eyes

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