Sex: MaleThere was nothing quite like getting under another’s skin, especially when the other happened to be what could only be a beauty of the fairer sex even if her skinniness was a bit of a turn off to him, a tell-tale sign that she likely hadn’t eaten well in a few days or so. Beautiful ladies were not meant to waste away. Not that he had much in the way of telling if he was getting under Desdemona’s skin or not. Simply, he was left guessing and assuming by the numerous instances before he had to go of. How his simple words engendered a frustration that he was not willing to give more. Though in truth, Strato knew not what else to give her. What had she expected him to say? She was lucky he’d responded vocally at all. Strato was not…exactly very good at conversations, probably because he was not a open book, neither did he fancy himself a proverbial chatterbox. He did not feel the desire to ramble excessively on about his problems, and his feelings and certainly not to a stranger pretty or otherwise. Beauty was not the key to the gateway that was the complexity of Strato. Though, admittedly, it was a portion of the key. He hardly hid anything, his abrasive personality did not allow such things as discreet, coveted secrets so in a sense Strato was very much ‘what you see is what you get’.
Desdemona kept her feelings hidden fairly well when he attempted to speak and acridly butchered the word ‘squirrel’ though there was a small rush of satisfaction as the realization tickled in his mind that it might’ve been because he was glaring at her like her corpse might make a nice addition to the small clearing they stood in. Leathery black nostrils flared in rhythm with his temper, icy eyes burned despite their freezing coloration as she “encouraged” (which admittedly sounded more like correction to him) by sounding out the word for him. Tail lashed against his back haunches, lip curling back in a very clear statement that he wasn’t amused. In fact he felt rather exposed, like his inability to form some words in English proved to be a weakness that he’d never seen before. A weakness unseen because of denial or ignorance either way it was a new weakness that had been discovered by her efforts. If she thought he was going to attempt to say the word ever again (at least in her presence, he could practice it -- should the desire ever take hold -- in his solitude) in English she was fooling herself. If he had to make reference to the bushy tailed rodent he would call it by it’s German name. As quickly as the fury had seethed and boiled to the surface it mellowed out and disappeared as he shrugged his humiliation under the carpet, not as if it had never happened, but as if it were a lesson learned (and it was). He had teenage angst to thank for the swift mood changes, though even as a small child while his anger had come roaring in like a monsoon, it did was not long before it defused.
Icy eyes softened from their glaring state to skim across her once more, resting measurably upon her face when she claimed his attention again. Where the faint curl of a snarl had once shown upon his lips a small, tugging smirk now resided, stealing it’s spotlight back as Strato’s favorite expression. "Interested?" The vulgar Arrluk teased her, tongue scraping his sharp canines as the word rolled heavily accented off of it. He was no stranger to the art of flirtation, half-teasing (as he was now) or serious, it mattered little. "I…nein…I do not know." He admitted after a moments pause. He had been pretty content with chilling in his temporary den in Cedarwood Forest until he found out more about the current enigma that was Relic Lore. It was as foreign as himself and that made these lands…measurably dangerous to him until he came to know them better.
The lights won't guide you through; they're decieving you
beautiful table by sarah <3!
