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:// Divinity Flows In Our BloodV E N T | A R T ?

∞

I've been down lately, and all I've been wanting to draw are Kirro, Nochtli, and Toryn/Woody. They all express about the same range of emotion, so it's logical that they come in a little clump. I told *Katha88 that I would finally be getting Toryn/Woody a reference sheet so he could be official in all HARPG related things but for some reason this had to happen first. It was frustrating initially, because I forced it. I didn't want to draw, and I still don't, but it came out alright for that. I don't know why I draw poor Kirro so derpy all the time. u___u; For being three that should be fairly easy (especially Toryn/Woody) I struggled a lot.

-shrugs-

But here it is. If you're wondering about Nochtli's relationship status, or Kirro's, it's a large question mark everywhere for both sides. But I'd say that they're bonded rather intensely.

Mr. Toryn will get his reference sheet next so he's official, and then I have some old May Day stuff that I owe and a commission or so to do.

∞

It was quiet as the grave as Jamison stared down into the rather intense amber eyes of a man he had learned he rather disliked. Only for a second did his eyes dart down to look at the strange woman who was standing there beside him. Usually Kirro couldn't be seen anywhere without being choke-chained by Lokka, so it was unsettling to see him with someone else. Especially a woman.

Or perhaps it was just the woman who was unsettling.

"I don't know what the problem is." Kirro finally snarled, shoving the euros into Jamison's hand and clenching them there. "You're not really in a position to deny business, are you?" The man added as Jamison tore his hand away and counted the bills. It was more than double what the usual price would be for two riders for a couple of hours.

Jamison swallowed hard, and then crossed his arms defensively over his chest, the money crumpled in his hand. "Problem one is that you only want one horse. I don't like people riding double on my horses, especially the small ones." He said, putting out one finger dramatically. "Problem two, no saddle. Whatever happens to the two of you, I don't want to get sued. I'm not really in a /position/ to get sued, you see."

"You won't have any problems from us." Kirro said flatly.

"Problem THREE," Jamison said loudly, before leaning in and staring at the other rather aggressively. "I don't like you. At all."

"The feeling is mutual, I assure you." Kirro replied, a snarl of a smile curving his full lips. "But you aren't giving me back that money, so I'm guessing we're cleared."

Jamison gave an irritated sigh and turned his back on the pair. "Oh where did my little red horse go?" He said loudly, and Kirro took Nochtli by the hand.

"Let's go."

---

Kirro wasn't a fan of animals, generally speaking. They were dirty and smelly and utterly beneath him. For some reason, however, he felt drawn to the little sorrel Connemara that Jamison kept. All the times that he had come with Lokka to this god-awful place, that stallion had caught his eye. Kirro felt possessed to get to know the creature a bit more, and Nochtli had expressed an interest in trying to ride the horse as well as some understandable apprehension. Out of the kindness of his black soul, he decided to kill two birds with one stone.

"Are you ready?" He asked Nochtli as she stood there, stoic next to the small horse yet only barely standing above his withers.

"Yes." She replied, and he lifted her up, putting her squarely on the horse's back. He swung himself up as well to the horse's dismay, and he gave a little start but Kirro caught himself easily. One didn't survive the Middle Ages without learning to ride a horse, they always said.

For punishment, he gave the horse a sharp yank on the reins, and stubbornly the horse yanked back, inflicting pain on himself just to prove a point. Yes, Kirro had known he'd like this horse. With one hand on his thigh and the other around Nochtli's body grasping the reins, Kirro set out toward the ocean, avoiding any beaten trail. He watched as Nochtli's little hands tangled in the blonde mane of the horse and her blank, expressionless face turned this way and that, observing all there was to see on their little journey.

"He doesn't know that you don't want Lokka to know." Nochtli said quietly, out of the blue, and Kirro looked down at her.

"In spite of his appearance, he is smart enough to keep his mouth shut." Kirro replied, looking off into the distance. "Lokka is the type that would 'kill the messenger' as they say."

Nochtli nodded her understanding, going quiet again. Kirro watched as she so intently and curiously analyzed the contortion of muscles beneath her, wanting to understand the horse more completely. He was satisfied that she was seemingly enjoying their adventure. Somewhere deep inside of him, he was happy when he could see that the pooka was enjoying herself, or some shade of the proper emotion. He didn't expect too much of her, as she didn't of him. It was an easy relationship as their shortcomings were rather the same.

Their time together with the horse passed quickly and soon they were back at the stables again, Kirro sliding off the back of the small horse and Nochtli leaping down with grace that only a feline could possess. Kirro wrapped the horse's reins around the hitching rail a couple of times then put his hand at the small of Nochtli's back and led her away. It was time to resume their roles as satellites orbiting around Lokka's way of life. It was a small reprieve, but Kirro had enjoyed himself, a feeling he hadn't had in a long time. Looking down at the small woman, and then back at the horse, he wondered what exactly it was that allowed this alien feeling, but he didn't linger on the thought. He knew it would soon be shrouded by anger again, and spoiling the moment with over thinking things would be a shame.

Distantly, he heard the sound of wood tumbling over itself and angry shouts coming from the direction of the stables. Apparently the horse had about the same level of patience as Kirro did, and had worked with him splendidly in making Jamison's life just a tad more miserable that day.

∞

• Characters and art © *nadelkissen •

• Please do not copy, heavily reference, trace, claim as your own, reuse this image on another site, reproduce in any way, shape or form, without explicit written permission/consent

Description

:// Divinity Flows In Our BloodV E N T | A R T ?

∞

I've been down lately, and all I've been wanting to draw are Kirro, Nochtli, and Toryn/Woody. They all express about the same range of emotion, so it's logical that they come in a little clump. I told *Katha88 that I would finally be getting Toryn/Woody a reference sheet so he could be official in all HARPG related things but for some reason this had to happen first. It was frustrating initially, because I forced it. I didn't want to draw, and I still don't, but it came out alright for that. I don't know why I draw poor Kirro so derpy all the time. u___u; For being three that should be fairly easy (especially Toryn/Woody) I struggled a lot.

-shrugs-

But here it is. If you're wondering about Nochtli's relationship status, or Kirro's, it's a large question mark everywhere for both sides. But I'd say that they're bonded rather intensely.

Mr. Toryn will get his reference sheet next so he's official, and then I have some old May Day stuff that I owe and a commission or so to do.

∞

It was quiet as the grave as Jamison stared down into the rather intense amber eyes of a man he had learned he rather disliked. Only for a second did his eyes dart down to look at the strange woman who was standing there beside him. Usually Kirro couldn't be seen anywhere without being choke-chained by Lokka, so it was unsettling to see him with someone else. Especially a woman.

Or perhaps it was just the woman who was unsettling.

"I don't know what the problem is." Kirro finally snarled, shoving the euros into Jamison's hand and clenching them there. "You're not really in a position to deny business, are you?" The man added as Jamison tore his hand away and counted the bills. It was more than double what the usual price would be for two riders for a couple of hours.

Jamison swallowed hard, and then crossed his arms defensively over his chest, the money crumpled in his hand. "Problem one is that you only want one horse. I don't like people riding double on my horses, especially the small ones." He said, putting out one finger dramatically. "Problem two, no saddle. Whatever happens to the two of you, I don't want to get sued. I'm not really in a /position/ to get sued, you see."

"You won't have any problems from us." Kirro said flatly.

"Problem THREE," Jamison said loudly, before leaning in and staring at the other rather aggressively. "I don't like you. At all."

"The feeling is mutual, I assure you." Kirro replied, a snarl of a smile curving his full lips. "But you aren't giving me back that money, so I'm guessing we're cleared."

Jamison gave an irritated sigh and turned his back on the pair. "Oh where did my little red horse go?" He said loudly, and Kirro took Nochtli by the hand.

"Let's go."

---

Kirro wasn't a fan of animals, generally speaking. They were dirty and smelly and utterly beneath him. For some reason, however, he felt drawn to the little sorrel Connemara that Jamison kept. All the times that he had come with Lokka to this god-awful place, that stallion had caught his eye. Kirro felt possessed to get to know the creature a bit more, and Nochtli had expressed an interest in trying to ride the horse as well as some understandable apprehension. Out of the kindness of his black soul, he decided to kill two birds with one stone.

"Are you ready?" He asked Nochtli as she stood there, stoic next to the small horse yet only barely standing above his withers.

"Yes." She replied, and he lifted her up, putting her squarely on the horse's back. He swung himself up as well to the horse's dismay, and he gave a little start but Kirro caught himself easily. One didn't survive the Middle Ages without learning to ride a horse, they always said.

For punishment, he gave the horse a sharp yank on the reins, and stubbornly the horse yanked back, inflicting pain on himself just to prove a point. Yes, Kirro had known he'd like this horse. With one hand on his thigh and the other around Nochtli's body grasping the reins, Kirro set out toward the ocean, avoiding any beaten trail. He watched as Nochtli's little hands tangled in the blonde mane of the horse and her blank, expressionless face turned this way and that, observing all there was to see on their little journey.

"He doesn't know that you don't want Lokka to know." Nochtli said quietly, out of the blue, and Kirro looked down at her.

"In spite of his appearance, he is smart enough to keep his mouth shut." Kirro replied, looking off into the distance. "Lokka is the type that would 'kill the messenger' as they say."

Nochtli nodded her understanding, going quiet again. Kirro watched as she so intently and curiously analyzed the contortion of muscles beneath her, wanting to understand the horse more completely. He was satisfied that she was seemingly enjoying their adventure. Somewhere deep inside of him, he was happy when he could see that the pooka was enjoying herself, or some shade of the proper emotion. He didn't expect too much of her, as she didn't of him. It was an easy relationship as their shortcomings were rather the same.

Their time together with the horse passed quickly and soon they were back at the stables again, Kirro sliding off the back of the small horse and Nochtli leaping down with grace that only a feline could possess. Kirro wrapped the horse's reins around the hitching rail a couple of times then put his hand at the small of Nochtli's back and led her away. It was time to resume their roles as satellites orbiting around Lokka's way of life. It was a small reprieve, but Kirro had enjoyed himself, a feeling he hadn't had in a long time. Looking down at the small woman, and then back at the horse, he wondered what exactly it was that allowed this alien feeling, but he didn't linger on the thought. He knew it would soon be shrouded by anger again, and spoiling the moment with over thinking things would be a shame.

Distantly, he heard the sound of wood tumbling over itself and angry shouts coming from the direction of the stables. Apparently the horse had about the same level of patience as Kirro did, and had worked with him splendidly in making Jamison's life just a tad more miserable that day.

∞

• Characters and art © *nadelkissen •

• Please do not copy, heavily reference, trace, claim as your own, reuse this image on another site, reproduce in any way, shape or form, without explicit written permission/consent