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[ Blease, Give Us Warly in 9D.. we need the good boy wearing that terrible smile, ]
i dont feel like super proud of this one but itâs done and i think im getting better at drawing just overall also im super tired. flann i love u but he canât be scary
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Wolfgang heard Warly has finally returned from whence he came and has left a dragon pie, as well as a very small pouch of what appears to be salt. Attached is a note that reads, "Chef man needs salt!"
Warly read and re-read the note upon receiving it. For several moments it refused to click; âChef man needs saltâ? Whose antics were these? Who did he know who spoke like that? His memory refused to cooperate until he looked down at the dragonpie and saw the crustâs latticework. The strips of crust on top looked to have been arranged as delicately as possible, but had still needed to be pinched back into shape where they were tugged apart. Only one person he knew pulled their crust apart like that when they baked, and it was because he was simply too strong.
Warly put a hand to his forehead and blinked away the tears that hit him unbidden. He laughed, wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand, and laughed again. Wolfgang, he kept thinking, Wolfgang.
@fueled-by-knowledge
The thatched ceiling of the tent wasnât the least bit interesting but Wes often needed to glue his eyes to something inanimate when his mind was racing. Ms. Wickerbottom didnât often force him to do much of anything but on the nights before the pair trudged through the portal for another attempt she was far too stubborn to argue with on the subject of heading to bed. Not that Wes was meant to sleep. Theyâd gone on portal expeditions more times than either of them could properly remember and at this point Wes was sent to bed simply so that the two could have time alone with their thoughts. These were never easy. Mental preparation was key. Ever since Wolfgang had been bound to the throne the world had taken a turn for the worst. Food that didnât come from a hole and screamed when you approached it was scarce, there was hardly any plant life left. Dog attacks became more frequent, the berry bushes withered away, carrots were practically nonexistent... Wes sighed slightly as he laid a hand on his pitiful, boney frame. Really the only reliable source of food were rabbits and gobblers but recently even their numbers dwindled from overhunting. Seeing anyone that wasnât skin and bones was truly a rare sight and it usually meant theyâd just been revived that morning. In the months Wolfgang had been gone Wes and Ms. Wickerbottom had toâve attempted the portal over a hundred times. They could both testify with a passion how outrageously cruel Adventure Mode had become after their friend rose to power. Theyâd actually caught themselves missing the previous difficulty, itâd be miles easier than what theyâd been dealing with. Wolfgang didnât want anyone to reach him. Heâd made that painfully clear. The mime sat up and peeked through the flap of the tent. Morning was still a few hours away but he couldnât lay around on his own anymore. Wes let out a light sigh through his nose then slowly exited the tent to join the librarian by the fire, the mime slowly laying a head on the womanâs shoulder. He would probably be sent back in a few minutes but for the moment he needed her company to banish his growing feelings of anxiety.Â
đş (( I am very late to the party but I don't care. ))
Send đş to hear what my muse likes about yours.
âI am very glad to consider Wolfgang my friend.â Warly said, smiling. âI am happy we met.â
⤠(From Wolfgang, because Warly basically set himself up for this. The Russian has no regrets and also no choice.)
send one for my museâs reaction to your muse ---
⤠= kissing them .
Warlyâs face heated up so quickly that he was sure Wolfgang could tell right away, but he didnât shy away. On the other hand, he didnât quite kiss him back, either- not out of discomfort, but shock. Wolfgang had caught him by surprise, that was all. And when he pulled back, strong hands still on the chefâs shoulders, Warly looked away, smiling shyly.
âIt was just a gift...â He mumbled.
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Today seems like a good enough day to finally get back to replies.
starter for @fueled-by-knowledge â Warly hadn't established a permanent base camp on the mainland yet, though he'd decided he wanted to. He was still too unfamiliar with the terrain to settle anywhere. Everything was so different from the islands he was used to. At least there he had some idea of what resources should be available and how to use them properly. Here, everything was different, from the soil to the taste of the air. It wasn't bad, not by any means; Warly just wished he had a better sense for roughing it than he did. Cooking was all he'd ever really been good at, and out here it wouldn't get him far at all. He had a good head on his shoulders, that much was certain, but he wasn't exactly cut out for thisâ not in his opinion. Still, the chef did his best, just as always, and soldiered on through the pine groves he'd built his campfire near the night prior. Evergreens were largely foreign to him, but he'd decided he liked them. They looked considerably easier to climb than palm trees, and part of him wanted to try it, but he'd managed to refrain. Perhaps another time, Warly told himself. For now he had a more important goal: mapping out more of the area and hopefully finding somewhere that was suitable for a secondary camp. After what had happened to him during last dry season, he wasn't eager to spend another there, and would gladly accept whatever the mainland offered in its place. Warly didn't expect it to be much easier, but any change was welcomeâ and from what he'd seen, the mainland was more inhabited than the islands, both by creatures and other humans, scarce as the latter was.
