(Untitled)

[mistyarc]

Who: mistyarc and emperorsnewswag
What: Bonding via animal-caused accident
When: Late morning
Where: Around the village
Summary: A case of mistaken identity. It's all the glasses' fault.
Rating: PG(?)

Comments

[emperorsnewswag]

[ Peony had been weighing the options over and over in his head. Was it right to decline, or was it better to accept? He hadn't been here long, and he certainly wasn't of much use - though who was he kidding, he was so versed in various weapons, even though he had no artes to speak up - so why should he even bother? It was frustrating, and constituted a late morning walk to clear his mind. Just like a certain someone.

Cute Jade lead the way, sniffing the ground and inspecting things ahead of the bogged down Emperor.

Needless to say, he didn't realize the rappig had perked his ears, snorted loudly in that noise he only used when Jade was about, and began charging down the road.

Straight towards a glasses-wearing stranger. ]

[mistyarc]

[ Hubert isn't so out of it that he doesn't notice something when it's charging his way. In fact, he whips his head to the side just in time to see the creature headed his way. But not quickly enough that he can really do anything about it, so the rappig collides against his legs right as Hubert is about to sidestep.

Hubert trips, and, with an abrupt cry, falls forward and manages to twist his body enough so that he doesn't land on the creature, but on his side a mere foot or two away.

. . . why . . . ]

[emperorsnewswag]

[ ...Oh man, too late.

Peony had been about to shout at the stranger to watch out (rather than call Cute Jade back), but it was too late. He winced as the man fell to the ground.

Cautiously, he headed over, though with haste nonetheless. At that point, Cute Jade was inspecting his prey, snorting loudly and nudging closer to Hubert to try to get his snout near his glasses.

You smell different. You're not Jade :| ]

...Are you all right?

[mistyarc]

[ Lying on his side with a faintly throbbing shoulder, Hubert finds himself half-watching, half-glaring at the rappig as it -- he or she or whatever -- comes far too close to his face for his liking. What is it even supposed to be?

When he hears someone approaching, he slowly and deliberately gets back onto his feet and readjusts his spectacles. He looks to the rappig before turning his gaze to the man. ]

. . . Yes.

[ He clears his throat. ]

I am.