[ToxicShadow]

(Huntin' for seasonal wild pets. <3)
(May have mild language, 'cause Adair hates dirt and can be a meany-face. xD;)


(Adair, human-esque and Blayze, human-esque.)

Fighting tooth and nail couldn't prevent Adair's misfortune, nor could it deter Blayze from being the very cause of it. Hand-in-hand, and certainly not by the blond haired young man's choice, the two men were trekking through the desert with aid from the bright white light of the full moon. They were off on some crazy adventure, like was usual for them, really, even if one of them wasn't interested in such things in the first place. Try as he might, Adair could never win against his roommate's persistence. He would unenthusiastically agree to go along with most things if only to get the other man to shut the hell up.

"Really? The desert?" Adair questioned, obviously irritated, as he glared at the feminine, orangish red haired man's back, while being more-or-less dragged across the sand against his will. Why the desert, of all places? His beautifully white and gold clothes could be ruined in such a place, with all of the disgusting dirt around, everywhere. Sure, everyone called it sand, but that didn't make it any less gross than plain old dirt. In fact, it could have been worse than dirt, since sand always liked to get into places it should never, ever even reach.

"Of course the desert!" Blayze responded, not bothering to glance back at his companion just yet. He was long since used to the other man being annoyed with him most of the time. "Who else would look for lost, lonely winter creatures in a desert?! Just think, if we didn't come out here, maybe they would be lost and alone forever. You wouldn't want that, would you? Would you?"

With a heavy sigh and a shake of his head, Adair responded, "I suppose not, if that's what you really believe..." There was hardly any point in arguing about the logic behind choosing their destination now that they were already there. "Now would you let go of my hand?"

"Nope! I'd rather not," Blayze replied with a giggle, causing the other man's frown to deepen.

[Ander]

Manhattan, anthro form.

A bundle of white tottered grudgingly across the desert sand. Manhattan - the lithe Evren swathed in his best coat, vainly trying to keep some of this invasive soil away from his skin - was not, and let it be stressed, not happy to be here. Never in his wildest dreams would the man, slender under the smothering fabric, have imagined being out in this wilderness. Why would he? What point was there in him being here, subjected to all sorts of weather and sullying, when he could be enjoying all the creature comforts of a clean Aldrect apartment? He could be sipping blueberry cordial right now, with ice. Maybe a slice of pie. All while perusing his newest painting from the skilled hand of the Bleached Blessings portrait series.

The thought made cloudy gold eyes narrow, barely visible through a gap in the Evren's bundling. Paintings and portraits. Curse his love for the arts - that was why he was here instead of lounging at home. The curator of one of his favorite museums had very enthusiastically told him about a new set of sand paintings, made exclusively with pale, near-white sands: right up the pristine young man's alley. Manhattan had foolishly figured that sand, even white sand, came from the desert. So hitching a ride immediately to one of Wilt'no's border towns and heading inland, in order to see such prize sand-paintings for himself before anyone else, made perfect sense. Right?

An hour away from the nearest town, lost in a sea of golden dunes and sweltering heat... Manhattan was finally ready to admit that maybe, just maybe, he'd been a bit rash. New art always did that to him.

He couldn't even tell where the nearest respite was anymore. Just sand and sand in every direction. And oh, wonderful - now he was seeing people where there were none. Before his eyes, one mirage tugged another into view over the nearest dune. The Evren moaned, part exasperation, part wordless yell to figures he knew were just figments of his imagination. How dare they taunt him.

After all, if he was going to hallucinate anything, he would much rather see things he enjoyed. Like his paintings... and his cordial. Hell, he'd even welcome the pie.

[ToxicShadow]

The two Roosken men were quite preoccupied amongst themselves, Blayze becoming so cheerful and upbeat that he began to swing their entwined hands back and forth when Adair finally came to walk beside him. This development only made Adair frown all the more, though it would have been entirely pointless to tug his had away, as he was certain that his companion would just seize it again immediately. Blayze even began humming, some obnoxiously upbeat tune. Fantastic. This couldn't get any worse! Well, it could, if he decided to start skipping, but hopefully the sand would deter him from that, since it would tire them both out quickly. That was the last thing that they needed to happen while in the middle of the vast desert.

Sighing, and finally looking around at the generally bland scenery, it was Adair that spotted a figure in the distance, and pointed it out to Blayze. "I don't think we're alone," he commented, pointing out toward the figure with his free hand. Blayze responded with a surprised, "Huh?" as his humming was interrupted, before his eyes moved in the appropriate direction. He squinted a little in an attempt to get a better look. "Oh! You're right! We should go say 'hello!' Maybe they're looking for something too." Adair's brow furrowed. "I doubt that is the best of ideas. They're a stranger, Blayze. You don't know what they might do." The red haired man only laughed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Silly, you worry way too much!"

Attention turned back to the mysterious figure, Blayze began to wave frantically with his free hand. "Hello over there! You're not a mirage, are you?" Though it wasn't as if a mirage was known to speak, the thought never occurred to him or, if it did, he didn't bother to consider it. "Are you looost?"