Dec 01 2019, 07:24 PM
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why don't i just pull the weedsPurity was tired, first and foremost. Strings of fluid clung still to the thick fur over him, evident of his previous hibernation. Caves, he looked nasty. Sure, most had dried out by now, but he definitely felt icky, like he'd contracted some disease of disgusting-ness. Gross.
His first course of action was to clean himself, and he knew that stuff wouldn't be good against his tongue. He'd found his way to a a familiar lake- one he'd witnessed the odd purple being by, the one he waded into now with slow, lethargic movements. At least this was a good wet. When the water met his back ankles he lowered himself to his haunches and began to rub over his limbs. Blech, the water helped to strip the fluids from him, but he still hated how he looked drenched in just plain old water. It was better, though; he could get his tongue on his limbs now, and he just had to carry on and focus on his back. Methodical bathing took place as he dipped his body in and out of the water, first rubbing along the stony bottom before twisting his neck back and licking out the tangled curls and missed spots he could manage.
It was lost on him the ruckus he was making with the water, splashing about in it. There was nothing drinking at it nearby when he approached, so nothing should be too bothered, right? He didn't need to be bothered if he stirred someone else awake, that was for sure.
At least he was clean now.