[ Post a Response | Lake Danson ]
Posted by Grime on October 23, 2009, 6:13 pm, in reply to "#Bloody Barron#"
216.38.187.32
Grime did not show similar symptoms of being controlled by an odd fetish, but he was well on his way. The tiger had come here in search of good mud holes. They were common as the light snowfall would come and melt, wetting the ground. He had found plenty here, rolled in them and moved on. The dirt was a fascination to the tiger. With it on it felt like armor, especially when the clumps hardened into shell almost unbreakable by teeth. Since Grime was a cub he was rolling in every foul, unimaginable pile of filth he could find. The dirt completely covered the original color of his fur, a dark, stripe-less purple. Now he was almost black from swamp muck and smelled terrible.
The newest coat of mud dripped off his sides as Grime wandered the beach in search of new sources of filth. Spotting the wolf bathing in the river, Grime snarled, not at the wolf, but the water. Water conflicted not only with his love of pollution, but fire also. Grime was ready to leave, but he noticed the wolf was bleeding from the legs. He decided to stay and introduce himself to the wolf once he was done, and day dreamed about having blood painted on his armor of mud.
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