the strength of the wolf

i think maybe the people who reblogged it had intentions other than u did. be careful with how u word things: it matters. your intent is literally completely unclear in this and its tiring to see you react so strongly when i was like. confused and displeased at most. calm down buddy.

❤ How long have you been RPing?

❥ How long have you been RPing this character?

유 Who was your first muse?

♋ What drew you to this muse?

☮ Is there anything you don’t like about playing this muse?

✌ What is the easiest aspect of playing this muse?

☏ What is the most challenging aspect of playing this muse?

☢ How many active muses do you have?

☠ Who is a muse you would want to play?

☤ What do you have in common with your muse?

☑ What are the biggest differences between you and your muse?

♚ Do you and your muse get along?

▲ Of the two of you, who is more mature, you or your muse?

♪ Are you comfortable playing your muse?

✈ Is it easier to write angst, fluff, or crack with your muse?

Mowgli let out a small laugh, hoping it was convincing. “I’ve definitely driven before.” Not in the past years, though. Several years, several decades, what was the difference.

He paused at the controls of the vehicle. He hadn’t driven this monster truck with that huge bed, though. He considered asking if Fabletown had anything better to get someone from point A to point B.

“I hardly think we have room in the budget for a promotion.” She was serious for a moment. “However, I know Fly was happy to get out of the task of driving up here. Maybe you can work something out with him.  The trip to the Farm was fairly easy, with the enchantments keeping the traffic light the closer they got. “Are you going up there for business or pleasure?” It was always business for Snow to go up there, of course, but she knew not all Fables were married to their jobs.

He laughed. “Don’t worry, I was joking. I have no desire to set down permanent roots here or anywhere, let alone to do it for a chauffeur position.” His apartment in Fabletown had been bought in 1931, and he was pretty sure his neighbors thought a ghost haunted it.

Mowgli let out a small laugh, hoping it was convincing. “I’ve definitely driven before.” Not in the past years, though. Several years, several decades, what was the difference.

He paused at the controls of the vehicle. He hadn’t driven this monster truck with that huge bed, though. He considered asking if Fabletown had anything better to get someone from point A to point B.

That was not as reassuring as he hoped. When he eased the truck into gear with nary a sickening grind or heart stopping clunk to be heard, Snow smiled herself, leaning back to look over the stack of letters she pulled from her bag once they were on the way.  “You’re not a chauffeur,” Snow looked at him sideways, “That would imply I was going to pay you for driving me up there.” She smirked slightly. “Besides, I don’t think that’s in your job description. “

“Maybe I should get a promotion then, huh?” he said, snorting in amusement. “We’ll add it to my job description. Tourist and Chauffeur Mowgli, at your service. It’ll be a hit.”