ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶦⁿˢᵗᶦⁿᶜᵗ ;;

                                      Returning soon. New blog can be found here.

Just letting all know who are still here, yes, I disappeared. Life got hellish. Lincoln will be returning. Sometime in the next month. I am revamping him and giving him a shiney new account. ;)

             ❝  Is  d’his  a  social  call  —  or  do  ya  get  ya  kicks  wonderin’  in  d’he  swamp  ?     ❞     The  wolf,  he  didn’t  care  the  answer.    Only  that  someone  new  had  crossed  his  path  &  he  debated  on  whether  he  could  take  a  chance  on  a  free  meal  or  let  them  be.

              ❝  i  ain’t  in  my  natural  shape.     ain’t   hunting   either.     not  anymore.     ❞     he  sniffed  the  air;  NOT  GOOD  WITH  BEING  SOCIAL,  lincoln  hesitated  on  returning  the  gesture.     he  studied  the  mothman  instead.     a  moment  to  look  over  his  form  and  natural  curve.     a  chance  to  gauge  physical  strength.     it  was  a  second  before  he  reached  out  with  CLAWED  hand  and  took  the  others.     he  stepped  closer  in  that  instant  and  learned  the  scent  on  the  other.     his  red  eyes  faded  to  human  blue  while  he  released  the  hand.     ❝  lincoln.  d’here’s  some  camper  left  over  d’he  hill  if  ya  hungry.     ❞

           I’m off tomorrow (but will be going in for a few hours) and off Wednesday. I’ll make tomorrow reply day and on Wednesday do some summer cleaning and rewrites for this blog. It needs it. The hiatus was good for me. Doing a couple of replies and then bed.

He’d be the son of Athena. With no doubt, he’d be one of her demigod sons.

        .     “   it’s  polite  for  ya  t’announce  ya’self  when  ya  tramplin’  on  someone  else’s  huntin’  ground.   ”    for  lincoln,  it  had  been  a  polite  greeting  to  another  kindred.  he  could  have  easily  mauled  him  like  a  rapid  dog.  behaved  like  the  stereotypes  written  about  in  modern  media.  chased  down  &  ate  the  mailman  for  fun.  he  stopped  thirty  feet  from  them  and  stood.           .     “   d’he  name’s  lincoln.  some  call  me  lee,  most  linc  and  d’he  rest  call  me  lincoln.  gonna  keep  d’his  civil  or  ya  wantin’  to  play  who  makes  d’he  better  chewtoy  ?   ”

          lincoln  stepped  into  the  moonlight.  the  rags  of  a  shirt  (  what  had  BEEN  a  shirt  at  one  time  )  was  used  to  clean  away  the  dark  smears  across  his  body.  his  eyes  glowed  brighter  in  the  light  of  the  moon.  he  scratched  idly  at  the  hair  that  dusted  his  chest  while  he  looked  the  man  over.    “   ya  don’t  know,  beau  ?  i’m  d’he  rougarou.  and  you  gone  and  wondered  in  here  while  i  was  enjoy  m’  meal.  least  ya  could  do  is  introduce  ya’self.   ”

        .     “   and  is  d’here  a  reason  ya  keep  lookin’  at  me,  when  ya  think  i  don’t  notice  ya  doin’  it  ?   ”

          A  fatal  flaw,  one  often  used  against  him,  had  been  his  CURIOUS  nature.  She  had  smelled  unlike  anything  he’d  crossed  before.  A  scent  that  reminded  him  of  hot  pepper  and  clove.  It  drew  him  in.  Despite  his  curiosity  for  her,  his  claws  were  drawn.  Bared  for  his  protection  as  he  approached  with  sharpened  fangs.        “   What  are  you?   ”

                   “   Ya  need  ta  have  a  stronger  door  ta  keep  d’real  monsters  out,  mon  cher.   ”    He  could  see  him  clearly  through  the  darkness,  but  made  no  attempt  to  move.  He  was  comfortable  where  he  lounged.

           Flecked    with    blood;  adorned  with  the  remnant  of  his  latest  prey,  Lincoln  Bradbury  stood  bare  in  the  wood  with  his  glaring  red  eyes  narrowed  at  the  stranger.  The rougarou  lowered  his  body  to  the  ground  with  his  palm  pressed  in  the  earth  while  his  head  tilted  curiously  to  the  side.      “   you  don’t  be  smellin’  like  any  human  i  done  smelled  before,  sha.  ya  got  a  PURPOSE  being  here,  mon  ami  ?   ”