<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>When: 25° Dyo (Spring) 81380 Where: Pwa Desert (nowhere in particularly, really, pretty out of the way of civilization) Who: http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=1140Dethnyme Ulifeyt</a> Notes: First time roleplaying Dethnyme, so I apologize if this is bad.</td></tr></table> The torrid sun beat rays of uncomfortable heat onto the scorching sand below, roasting anyone unfortunate enough to encounter it that was not accustomed to such heat. The pain was not just coming from above, but also from below, where the previously mentioned sand had warmed to such a temperature that it was, as described, scorching the paws of those attempting to journey across the desert. Small murmurings were emitting from a creature that seemed to have suddenly appeared from amongst the sand; mutterings that seemed to be describing the amount of pain the female’s naked feet were currently in. A tangerine pelt covered the lean figure of the anthropomorphic anubi, dressed in cloth of creamy white, in an attempt to reflect the heat of the sun. Beige covered her chest and stomach, the latter part of the body revealed. A long, thick tail, resembling that of a fox, brushed the sand as she continued moving with as much grace as burnt feet would allow. Her paws moved off into the same colouring as her tail did, which was an ashen black, save for the left front paw, which seemed to have decided that it would be dipped in silver all the way to the leg joint (or, of course, the elbow, as she was currently anthropomorphic). Perhaps the most distinctive thing about the appearance of this female was the mask that covered the majority of her jackal head, including the long, black-tipped ears, revealing only the lower half of the jaw, similar in colouring to the beige that marked other areas of the body. The mask itself appeared to resemble an ancient god on the planet Earth, although this was merely a coincidence and neither the owner nor the creators of the mask were, or had been, aware of that simple fact. Save for failing to cover the lower jaw, the mask had two almond-shaped eyeholes, revealing an amber optic on the right and a sky blue optic on the left. Continuing to mutter to herself, Dethnyme stopped, wondering why her paws were reacting so badly to the heat of the desert when she lived there, and wondering why she hadn’t bothered to wear any footwear. As she brushed her black and navy blue hair back into place, she could have sworn she’d heard someone. And yet, she realised as she prepared to begin walking again, she hadn’t exactly seen anyone.
The heat was lost on him. He needed no heat- for what he was. as he walked, two 'dragon skeletons equipped with spears and scimitars in tow, bolth garbed in tattered grey cloaks, whilst Paushlatt himself, a ghastly, ghost white one, similarly tattered- and marked with an intricately stitched black pattern over the entire piece. He stepped over the crest of a sand dune, then, seeing the female, pulled his cloak tighter around him, folding his wings as tight as possible to avoid them being noticed. What were the chances? Then again, he could not quite figure why she would be out here. Maybe she needed help? If a bit out of character for him, he assumed he might as well. He silently ordered his skeletons to hide beneath their cloaks- he didn't want to be questioned about the fact that he has two skeletons following him. Necromancy was illegal, after all. He walked slowly, evenly, and easily downward from the dune, not for a moment losing his traction, or his deathless grace. He lowered his hood (with his right hand- again, seeing the skeletal arm would araise questions- and though it was well hidden under a long, loose sleeve and glove, he did not want to raise any questions, still). <span style='color:purple'>"Greetings!"</span> he called from a little ways, <span style='color:purple'>"What are you doing out here?"</span> he said, closer now.
The thill leapt visibly as the greeting came her way. Embarrased, this unseen due to the mask covering her face, she shook her head to clear it and turned to face the stranger. The tangerine 'dragon made a tutting noise that was supposed to indicate that it was wrong to scare females, even though it was obvious she was jesting with the cloaked 'dragon. <span style='color:#FFCC00'>"I-"</span> Started Dethnyme, before realising she wasn't entirely sure what she was doing this far in the desert. Thinking about it, part of her memory decided to recall that she had been trying to find plants to research, only to find she'd wandered out into the hottest part of the desert, burnt her feet and was now having trouble finding her way to a populated area. <span style='color:#FFCC00'>"I'm practising being lost,"</span> She finally decided to announce. <span style='color:#FFCC00'>"Not that I am, of course. I'm just pretending to be. For... survival practice..."</span> It was an extremely pathetic excuse, but Dethnyme didn't mind. As far as she was aware, she could say whatever she pleased while she was hidden behind the mask.
