Rock(uh swamp)Bottom

[beautysleep4.livejournal.com]

~The creature stoops, head ducking side to side trying to make a decision. Somewhere inside something screams shelter,rest. The creature does not question the voice-why should it? She straightens but remains slouched for it has become her natural state.

If the old faerie who cursed her could see the girl now, she would feel the beginnings of vindication. If her retainers could see her now they would never believe that the primitive instinct driven creature was once their Princess Beauty. If she were aware of anything but the mere instinct that now drives her, Beauty herself would be mortified and possibly crawl into a hole never to come out again. As it is she is looking for a space to crawl into more from respite from the heavy mists that fall like rain in the fetid swamps of level 5. When she comes upon the pocket sheltered by mist soaked reeds covered in algae and bent over from the weight, she grunts in satisfaction and wriggles her way inside. Nothing can shake the permanent damp of the place but it is a shield from the worst. She crawls back out long enough to make a wild beckoning gesture to Hal(though she does not think of him by name)and a second louder grunt to indicate he can share her shelter such as it is.~

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[halleyscomet1.livejournal.com]

*Hal sees and joins her. If his friends could see him now their reactions would fade between wild laughter and legitimate concern. His brother would just have the wild laughter. His attraction to beauty is impossible to regulate with a brain such as his current one, and the only thing from stopping him attempting to... ah... consumate this attraction is a primitive respect for her strength. She'd probably kill him before he had a chance, even if he is stronger.

He crawls up next to her and communicates his appreciation with a grunt. He's vaguely interested in attempting a feel but he'd never be able to leg it away in time.*

[beautysleep4.livejournal.com]

*Beauty finds herself conflicted by the nearness of this once errant knight of hers. The Princess Beauty, royal and regal and very aware of her loyalties and obligations would have blushed and demured at such intimate quarters. But the primative Beauty has not the constraints of social and moral upbringing. His heat and scent fill her with an internal restlessness of which she is unsure. While she was cold and wet the only thing driving her was in finding whatever refuge this place could offer. Now she has time to ponder their situation. He did not find their vegetative cave-she did. He seems to have no plan of finding food or of moving on. She is not sure what he has planned though she senses there is something on his mind. She has this instinctual feel that he should be picking their shelter, planning what comes next, providing whatever their needs are and yet he seems content to simply sit next to her. All this vexes her, without knowing quite why or what should be done about it. She glares at him, blows out a puff of air which is both frustration and disgust and lies down to wait out the rain.*

[halleyscomet1.livejournal.com]

*He gazes at her dully, either not recognising or not caring for her disdain. Though their little corner of the swamp is deserted, if there is any rustle or sign of life among the vegetation he growls deep in his throat and the hair that covers him stands on end defensively. He may not be the most physically intimidating shade in Hell, but he's certainly thicker and larger than the few unevolved damned that have the gall to wander within eyeshot.

She's his companion- he's automatically come to think of her as his mate seeing as she is the only female he's in long-term contact with- and he'll tear someone's throat out if they attempt to take possession.*