May 11 2015, 12:17 PM
Hmm.
Examining Behrdwoof like he was, he was coming to some very strange conclusions.
Behrdwoof was not made to be a very good wolf, was he? Those... things on his legs (feathers) got in the way of walking, and his mouth wasn't very big. And he seemed so silly when he crept like that on the floor... That wasn't how a behrdwoof really hunted... was it?
Hunting. Catching. Going.
Ugh, wait. Did that mean he'd have to use his legs?!
Saudade gave the ave a very incredulous look, his displeasure at the proposed implication clear. Legs - and verticality - were both overrated. Like eyes. He did not like them. He had already decided.
But seeing the Behrdwolf move further away there was a gripping sensation in his belly. One that wasn't hunger, but something altogether different. He didn't want to fall behind, he realized, and with that in mind he attempted to stand. Like the most graceless of gazelles, he stuck a foot out and tried to swing himself upward. His legs were long and getting atop them was a difficult endeavor until he realized there were parts of his legs that could bend. He nearly stood before he toppled down on his ass and in a flurry then after (irked by the repeated failure) he flung himself upward.
And that worked. Sort of. He was atop his pillar-like legs and he was moving forward. Not because he wanted to, but because the momentum of going had caught him and... Well.
He wasn't sure what'd happen if he'd stop... besides that it was very likely he'd plant himself face-forward into the rock floor and he very much didn't want that.
Examining Behrdwoof like he was, he was coming to some very strange conclusions.
Behrdwoof was not made to be a very good wolf, was he? Those... things on his legs (feathers) got in the way of walking, and his mouth wasn't very big. And he seemed so silly when he crept like that on the floor... That wasn't how a behrdwoof really hunted... was it?
Hunting. Catching. Going.
Ugh, wait. Did that mean he'd have to use his legs?!
Saudade gave the ave a very incredulous look, his displeasure at the proposed implication clear. Legs - and verticality - were both overrated. Like eyes. He did not like them. He had already decided.
But seeing the Behrdwolf move further away there was a gripping sensation in his belly. One that wasn't hunger, but something altogether different. He didn't want to fall behind, he realized, and with that in mind he attempted to stand. Like the most graceless of gazelles, he stuck a foot out and tried to swing himself upward. His legs were long and getting atop them was a difficult endeavor until he realized there were parts of his legs that could bend. He nearly stood before he toppled down on his ass and in a flurry then after (irked by the repeated failure) he flung himself upward.
And that worked. Sort of. He was atop his pillar-like legs and he was moving forward. Not because he wanted to, but because the momentum of going had caught him and... Well.
He wasn't sure what'd happen if he'd stop... besides that it was very likely he'd plant himself face-forward into the rock floor and he very much didn't want that.