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Adventure! Art! Abdominal Pain!


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Jus sad.[ATTACH=CONFIG]12268[/ATTACH]FOR NO REASON TOOOr a good reason anyway.Bored. Ask me things, say weird stuff, idcthough not like anyone really..likes this stuff..

I like the way you writeThe story seems interestingYou are getting into the charactersYour art looks niceThe birds are hard to catch ;-; Oh, be careful with the ravensOne of them... Might be unusual...
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I like the way you writeThe story seems interestingYou are getting into the charactersYour art looks niceThe birds are hard to catch ;-; Oh, be careful with the ravensOne of them... Might be unusual...

;3; I IS SO HAPPYAn yes, ;^; they slip away too easilyo-o might be a fun pet....?
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So here I introduce a new monster, I may place it in more, but only if the story calls for it.

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Possibly the worst part of being stuck laying down all day, was the boredom. It dragged, like trying to haul a bolder out of a thick swamp by way of rope drag. Dusk was settling in, and he needed to find something to do before he decided to just let the monsters have him. He grabbed what he could reach. Rope, rocks, sticks, bark. He started to fasten things together, not really making much but a dumbed out version of a fishing pole. He carved out some pieces of wood with some flint, not good carvings, and most of them didn't even really look like anything. He managed to roll on his stomach, creating a better working position.

He laid out all of what he had, thinking for a moment before trying again, ideas, possibilities, new inventions. He just needed something to work on. Moments that felt like hours passed, he started breaking up the bark into small pieces, and made a crudely put together plane. It didn’t fly well, and when it did, it would swirl back and hit him in the face. That just made being stuck here worse. He tried to stand on many occasions, only to have his head spin, making him sit at least.

Wilson sighs, leaning back on a tree and looks up. Its barely night time, barely a reasonable time to be—He looks back in front of him, green, reflective lenses look back at him. Behind the trees, still quite far, but it struck him with a fear, the eyes of a hunter. He started to make a spear, at least with that he could protect himself, for a while. It’s getting closer and closer, and when he looks down to finish the weapon, its gone. He’s searching, and searching, franticly, looking for something, anything!

But before he could even spot it, it was on him. Massive fangs, giant paws, fur drenched in sin. He stared, eyes wide, unable to move from the sudden fear that washed over him. Those who sit in fear are a meal. It goes for his neck, and he shakes out of it just in time to shove the spear at the thing. It didn’t hit it, but it kept it from tearing out his windpipe. Its claws were in his shoulders now, preventing much movement. Survival, however, was more important than the pain. He was weak, barely able to keep it from tearing out his insides.

Hounds growled in the background, claws, teeth, blood, suddenly everywhere. He couldn’t see what was really going on, and just as suddenly the movement stopped, and the cat was no longer a problem, but the hounds were, two of them, sniffing at the newly dead body, munching away. He wanted to scoot away, but he feared being noticed. He thought it was either that or die just lying there.

Regretting every move, he manages to slip behind the tree, hoping that will save him. With what little he could do, with what little energy he had, he hoped, that if they found him, he could find the strength to run.

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Wilson realized, that the hounds would probably find him if he didn't keep moving. Even though every fear, every instinct, told him to sit still. He started an army crawl, sliding through the pine needles. It was such a heavy depositing of needles, the ground was probably replaced by it. He didn't make it very far before having to rest, but at least he was a few more feet away. He quieted his breathing, back to another tree. He didn't want to look back, he didn't want to see what the hounds were doing.

It soon got dark quickly, and he couldn't see. He didn't bring a torch, or any fire, he was blind for a long time before he heard something scurrying through the needles. It seemed to circle around him for a few, then it struck him! He screamed in pain, he had never felt such pain before, whether it was claws or fangs, it seemed to burn as it struck, with an acid sort of feel. Growls could be heard behind it, something jumped on him. He flinched, waiting for the death strike.

He waited.

And Waited.

But it never came.

It was just on him, a low growl erupting from it. A tail swished in his face, causing him to sneeze. It then bit his leg! Not enough to draw blood, but it really hurt. It then roared with a voice that rumbled through the forest and in his stomach. Something ran off, but whatever it was stayed on him, was still on him. A fight over a meal? He didn't know. Just knew that it took forever to fall asleep, forever for the sun to rise so he could see.

He was sore, bruised, blood caked on his face and stomach. This was a bad morning. Whatever it was wasn't on him anymore, and he was dragged back to the camp, placed back on the straw bed. Wynn comes in, carrying wood, piling it next to a tree. She looks down at the man. "Filthy." She grunts with the most disgusted look she could muster. She sits near him, and stares at him with disappointment. "What the hell did you think you were doing out in the middle of that forest? You know monsters lurk at night." She sighs, handing him a wet piece of leather. "Excuse me! But I was crawling for my life from some stupid hounds!" He sits up suddenly. "Stupid?" "And if you're going to go on and scold me every time I get into trouble, that wasn't even my fault, I don't even--!" He scrambles for words. "I don't.. I just don't---!" She rolls her eyes and pushes him on his back. "You need to shut up, or I'm going to make you shut up. I get it, you were in trouble, mystery solved, now shut up and clean your face."

Wilson huffs, sitting back up and wiping his face as angrily as possible. She sighs, grinding up some things, putting together some bandages. At the same time shes cooking some meat over the fire, some jams to the side. Hunting must've been good to her. "Wheres my shirt?" He suddenly realizes he doesn't have it, and he's pretty cold. "Drying." She points to a stitched up shirt dangling from a drying rack. "Was filthy. I'm not washing your pants though, you can do that yourself." The man glares at her, which only makes her sigh. Wynn finishes with the healing aid, sitting behind him. This doesn't feel right, he thinks, as the girl rubs some of the salve she made onto some minor wounds on his back. Its kind of nice..though it still hurts.. "You can reach the rest." She places the rest of the things near him, and goes to check on the food.

Something makes him feel bad, something about the way shes acting, and sitting, and moving, makes his stomach twist. His fever is gone, a bit weak, but at least the sickness is fading. She notices this, as he finishes cleaning up and patching his wounds, standing to grab his shirt. His wounds were way worse than they were when he woke up. She had to wait till he slept for her to start fixing him up. Blood was still trickling down his stomach, there were huge gashes, from whatever that thing was. The cuts were deep, and she had to use what little healing supplies she had, which just managed to stop the bleeding. She couldn't leave him in the dark to go look for supplies, just had to wait till morning. She should've been there to keep him safe, while he was vulnerable like that.

But no, she had to go visit. Wynn shook her head, focusing back on the food. She places the steaks on a cleaned up flat rock, and kept the jam still in the cup. Shirt back on, Wilson goes through the backpack, pulling out some items before pulling out some gears. "Gears?" He smiles, obviously happy about her findings. Shes not really paying attention. He starts to put things together, making a teeny catapult, and a tiny robot-ish thing. He plays with his new made toys with a sort of childish glee. Knocking over tiny robots with pebbles, absolutely serious about defeating the newly made robot empire.

Wynn hands him the food, making him pout. "But but.." He looks at the toys. She groans, "Just eat.."

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Some of the moments... Just... Are you in some sort of cute mood? That's just X3 hahaahah, nice.

:3 I actually am. I saw some chibi wilsons and was like o-o OMG SO CUTE MUST MAKE CUTE WILSONSHes doing scienceAdorable scienceBut still serious business >:C
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:3 I actually am. I saw some chibi wilsons and was like o-o OMG SO CUTE MUST MAKE CUTE WILSONSHes doing scienceAdorable scienceBut still serious business >:C

hahaah adorable science is some serious business XD where are these chibi Wilsons?
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hahaah adorable science is some serious business XD where are these chibi Wilsons?

o0o indeedSaw most of em on google buuuut..only has the DA links o-o;

http://quiixotic.deviantart.com/art/wilson-and-willow-rescue-a-bird-352612190http://lizardbat.deviantart.com/art/I-KNOW-WILSON-365796501http://askrialu.deviantart.com/art/Chibi-Wilson-running-animation-381296068

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She didn't think much of him, buuut...we'll get to that part later.But yeah. She enjoys his company[ATTACH=CONFIG]12535[/ATTACH]may re-do this on gimpmake it easier to see

looks like Wes has a friend! with a hungry pack >:3
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if you enjoy spicy sauces, chilis and tomatoes, then probably. :3 Its MY favorite thing to put on nearly everything

so, you're just like a french person in case of food XD they use sauces all the time!wait...french...Wes...you like Wes...what the...
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so, you're just like a french person in case of food XD they use sauces all the time!wait...french...Wes...you like Wes...what the...

I enjoy the spicy saucesAnd I wouldnt knowo-o and watHes just SUUUUUPER adorableLike how can you not love him?
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