((No chicken is going to sneak up on Tuuli twice.

[x]

Burd settles comfortably on top of a fence post and preens herself.

http://tarlkhir.tumblr.com/post/49076811741/imapotatohearmeroar-i-googled-chickens-wearing

Molte’s good at making clothes, so I saw this and immediately thought of him making a sweater for Burd…….

((Best post ever. They’re all perfect, especially that fourth one down, of the chicken in the snow.

((wrong guess eve

HOW I DOES DUN DRAW? DUHHRRRR. 

No, but seriously, I tried my best to draw Molte BUT I DID IT ALL WRONG I THINK? I SORRY MOLTE SWEETIE. 

This is from a scene in our RP! The part where he calls Koueve stupid. Even though I'm pretty sure Molte was technically upside down when he said it.. BUT SHHHH. WE DON'T KNOW THAT FOR SURE. SHHH. 

I have nothing further to add.))

<No longer hypothermic but still feeling the effects of it, Koueve managed to somehow find himself down in the thick forests near Falkreath. He promised himself he wouldn't rob anybody until he got his strength back, but THEN he comes across a Bosmer.. apparently stuck in a log. Resisting the urge to laugh, Koueve approaches and clears his throat.> "Seems like a strange hiding spot, Kinsman." He speaks to Molte's rear end, "In need of a bit of uh.. assistance?"

  By Y’ffre, how had he managed to get himself into such a situation! No matter how he squirmed or writhed, Molte was hopelessly stuck in the narrow log. Taught him right not to mindlessly follow the rabbits anymore… Sometimes he forgot he wasn’t as small as they were.

Molte yelped at the sudden voice from behind him. “I-uh-wh-who’s there! Assistance? No, I don’t need assistance,” he babbled on. “I am… there’s a reason I’m here!”

His legs flailed around, effectively proving some sort of assistance would have been fine.

 "The only male Hagraven to ever LIVE!" Koueve cackled; Jesting as he was, however, he quickly shook the notion of terrorizing the poor fellow off, and instead dropped his pack to the ground with a stark thump upon approaching. 

"Just a traveler, same as anyone. And you may very well be fine in there, but it looks like the ants circling beneath you have a different notion about it!" Koueve found himself grinning at the thought of the Bosmer's lower half being swarmed with the ants, though they, strangely enough, didn't seem to have much interest in going through him as they did going around him. 

Slapping his hands together to rub them, rubbing away a bit of dust, Koueve promptly latches his hands onto the Bosmer's ankles, planting one boot down in the ant swarm and the other upon the log. He then, and without much warning, musters what strength he can spare and gives a grand old tug to Molte's lower half, hoping to at least dislodge the squirrel-y thing!