#namedstorms

unlike the three he’s currently traveling with,  scott won’t be sleeping.  he’ll act as sentry because he knows rest won’t come easy.  but right now,  apologies are in order  —  it’s why he seeks him out first.  remains mindful of his footing,  and his posture.  is all too aware of the numerous sets of eyes on him.  a pack of this size?  he’s beginning to worry.  not for himself,  but for the trouble he risks bringing on them just by being here.  especially if they’re still being tracked.

               “  i didn’t know wolves like you existed.  ”    he might of had an idea;  gleaned as much only recently.    “  had i known,  i wouldn’t have overstepped my boundaries  —  i’m sorry.  ”

                      GRIME  SPECKLED  &  EXHAUSTED      ,              nothing  but  an           insatiable  desire         to            seek  shelter          from  oncoming  storms  willed           throbbing  soles        to  march  onward          .            a          limp           tarnishing  his         familiar  gait          .         delicate             attributes           (          soft      ,        elven           )             alight  with        tangible  discontent          .             the  knife           sheathed          at  his  belt  a          wordless  comfort          ,            protection  from  a            world  turned  on  its  head           .           lithe  digits         peeling             a            sweat  sodden            shirt  from  his  chest          ,          head  canting  to  regard  the  male  at  his  side           .             “           c’mon       ,          there’s  a          warehouse           a  few  yards  up  ahead           .             if  we’re          quick          we  can  scout  the  place         &            possibly  set  up          camp         before  the  storm  hits      .      “ 

                     it takes zack three full seconds to react ( he still hasn’t FULLY REGISTERED the action regardless ). jason’s lips brushed over his hand and he froze. his body froze. his face went on a journey. head twitching to the side, brows furrowing and raising unevenly, and with just enough of a crooked smile to pull it all together into an unmistakable, silent, ‘dude what the fuck?’ 

                    as soon as ‘i’m proud of you’ leaves their fearless leader’s lips, however, time moves again and that SAME HAND shoots forward with lighting speed. another satisfying SMACK! into jason’s jaw. he’s quick to put a couple feet between them, dancing on his toes and fists raised, cocky grin plastered exactly where it belonged. 

          skylar was beginning to develop a familiarity --- rather a fondness --- for the smell of salt water, and the feel of ocean mist coating his skin. more and more frequently he left the halls of the institute and their astute training arena to practice his craft upon a beach. well, the beach. one in particular which spread from beneath a partially sunken old mansion. the company of the many small beach dwelling creatures and the warlock that presided over them was among the few things skylar found himself actively seeking out simply for the enjoyment and repose.

         his feet moved with graceful swiftness through the sand, following each twist and turn his body made, the blades in his grasp whistling as they cut through the air with honed accuracy and blurring speed. the black and fading reddish-brown runes stood out stark against his fair skin, glimmering with the spray of salt water mingling with sweat ( and just a tinge of that metallic electrum shimmer ).