Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-28718853-20171219143030/@comment-30014014-20171224013507

''The evening coast is gentle. The waves are present, but docile toward the sailors, rowing in in small boats. The sunset is slow and incodescent, sending off its last daily rays to the city that bath in the heat. The stars are appearing over the coat of night. One of their dim lights shines in the window of a house.''

''The clamps of ceramic under bolvine hooves is rapidly accelerated as a child acoasts to the border of the window, awe in stare as the shroud of night begins to blanket the fleeting coat of day "Whoa! The dark is eating the red!" She opens her maroon hand toward the open window, just to try to grab the dim luminosity that is seeping in, only to witness the formless ray pass through her fingers. ''

''The light bounces from shiny piece to shiny piece. From the set of trophies her mother acquired throughout her life to the empty vials that her father entertains in souvenirs. Speaking of souvenirs...''

''"What is that?" she speaks out, her tiny eyes locked on a particular item. Sitting at the top of the shelf is a used canister, no longer used, and yet it was on the very top, much more maintained than even the golden trophies and medals, especially by her mother.''

''"I wanna see!" she shouts, taking a foot, or a hoof over the table next to it, seeking to get a better look toward the cantine. Her hands somehow reaching the desired object, her footing falters in disarray, sending her falling on the floor. Or, it was supposed to end with her on the floor, only, her panicked fall distracted her from the rapid pace coming from the kitchen. A pair of brass hand, however snapped her how of her fall trance.''

''"Kella, what happened? Are you hurt?!" a voice resonates from over her head. Looking up, she is met with her mother's face, sporting worries. Her daughter giggles at her "I'm fine, mommy!" The frown inscribed on Cloise's face dissipates all the while she sets her tiny bolvine down "Good! It'd be bad to have you hurt in such a manner. But what were you doing?"''

''Cloise places her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow at what her daughter might have tried to force her out of the kitchen like that. A stain is present on her apron, just over the casual shirt, black like her jeans. Considering this set happened to be her work set as well, the dotting side she brands had not deterred to her tomboy penchant.''

''"Mommy, what is this?" Kella raises the canister between her fingers, as high over her tiny horns as possible. "Oh wow..." Cloise kneels to Kella's level, drawing her hands out, to be met with the cold surface of the metallic object "I never told you about this, did I?"''

The little girl vigorously shakes her head, spraying most of her hair in the air like a carousel "You always brought it more attention than the rest, mommy, even though it's less pretty".

''The mother chuckles at her words, throwing it a few times in the air. She turns back, looking toward her cooking. The pasta she had set on the stove was not to be done in at least a good moment. So, looking back at her daughter's curiosity, she smirks "How about a story, hmm? Perhaps that will circumvent your perception of this and why it's so precious to your father and I"''

''"Yay! Story time!" she shouts in anticipation, rushing to tackle her mother's thighs to cling. Another bit of laughter falls down while she picks her up as well as the canister " Alright, alright. Calm down, little calf. First, a seat for your over-excited hooves to simmer down".''

''Seconds pass, little Kella sitting on her mother's hooves, hands keeping her close to her ample chest. Soon, her voice begins descending on her twitching ears, the unfamiliar scent of remembrance washing down on them, an escapade to the years before...''



The bell rings one of its last decibels. Summer time is nigh. A flood of students are rushing outside the establishment, waiting to get on their vacation. Timothy is no different. This year has been rough on him, perhaps with a bit of blame from his selection of studies, which happen to wander in the medical sector. Being one of the passionate about rejuvenating medicine mixed with the use of gadgets, Timothy has been hard pushed by his peers and teachers to go above and beyond, much like the others present. This, while hard on his sleep time, had no noticeable incident on his attitude. If anything, he enjoyed the tough calls. To him, it simply meant he was doing it right, with the array of compliments he often received.

No, most of his issues came from...well, he stumbled upon it as he passed through a renowned gym company. "The Bull Ranch? There's one over here?" he hisses under his teeth, witness to a gym with wall embedded in glass. The Bull Ranch, a gym specialized for bolvine monsters to put in their weight holding. Minotaurs especially loved going inside and showing off their physical capacities to the onlookers who walked beside the place. While so, it was not restricted to their kind. Indeed, it was popular for every strong monster who loved physical training. Hellhounds, oni, blue oni, ogres, all of the variants.

Timothy spits in disdain as he was continued to observe all of the 'muscleheads', as he called them, continuing to lift their weight and passively showering passengers with their best bits "Seriously, what a way to sour my mood today...".

<p style="font-weight:400;">Watching the current weightlifters doing their work, he spots a familiar face among them. Not far from the entrance, in an open showcase, the grunt of a hakutaku failed to reach his ears, unlike the vision to his eyes. Sporting an azur set of shorts of both chest and pants, she's affairs on pulling slabs of iron plates from behind, which only serve to further spite him. "Never liked her to begin with..." he spits once more, turning his eyes away. He had seen enough to know it spelt a ruined vacation for him.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Putting this in the back of his mind, Timothy walked away...about 2 steps. A sensation of bumping into a wall comes to his touch before his eyes can register something in his way. He staggers backward, almost losing his footing. "The hell?" His forward foot slams backward to get his stability back, looking forward. A minotaur stood before him, towel in hand, drinking bottle on the other. Her hair danced in brown shades over her left eye but kept itself short. Black seemed to be the norm for her, with fingerless gloves, shirt and pants all over her.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Washing off whatever liquid might have landed on him off his face, he turns left and resumes his walk, mumbling a 'sorry' with a dull voice. A hand imprints on his chest, preventing him from continuing on. His eyes turn right, gazing straight into hers "Can I help you?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Actually, yes you can, sweetie!" she responds with enthusiast "I just noticed you were gawking at the stelwart women around in this fancy little gym. Thought it'd be swell to include you in my next training session since you seemed wanting".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Training session?" he raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced at her words.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Yep! Right over those trees where none would interrupt our little 'exercise'."

<p style="font-weight:400;">Timothy scoffs at her, his vitrolic voice creeping to the surface "Ohh, I wasn't looking to get anywhere near your gang of muscleheads. I was just wondering how the hell did my vacation time managed to get ruined this quickly".

<p style="font-weight:400;">Her eyes scowl forward in a frown "Sure is some mouth you have there, hon'. Perhaps I should put it to better use, how 'bout that?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Yea, go ahead and try it! Let's see what the representative at the company will have to say about one of their member using her strenght to have her way with a random man who didn't way anything to do with her. Have fun filling in your expulsion paper"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Alright, alright! Hold your horses, hon'!" she throws, a bit of regret in her forceful manner "How 'bout dinner somewhere sometimes? You lookin' like a fellow who's taking extra classes in that school for medics, right? You smell like one at least. It'll be easy to meet up here since our roads cross eventually".

<p style="font-weight:400;">A date? Not interested. Even less with a borderline brute like her and the rest. Of course, she does reiterate her offer as her hand slowly lets go of his chest "I'll be waiting, hon'. I'm here everyday. Now don't disappoint me!"

<p style="font-weight:400;">At this point, Timothy had more than enough space to resume his walk. He departs without word, ignoring the wave she sent at him. The next day passed, Cloise sitting at the nearest bench from the Bull Ranch. Her eyes scoured the horizon, searching for his pace. Nothing. Nothing but other people sometime passing by, either members of the gym or simple walking onlookers. Next day was the same. And the next. And the next...

<p style="font-weight:400;">--

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"...and the next". she finishes up, taking a relieved breath, to the disdained eyes of her little girl who couldn't help but wipe a tear or two "Daddy didn't come?"''

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"At that time, unfortunately not", Timothy's voice chimes in from the entrance's door. Kella's cheeks start puffing in a pout, showing reproche toward him, ignoring the fact that he just came in "Daddy, why were you mean to mommy?"''

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Whoa now, pumpkin'! That's no way to talk, sweetie", Cloise speaks, trying to calm the fiesty calf with a suppressed chuckle.

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"But mommy..." she turns to her. Her eyes are slightly more watery. Her lower lip trembles, a sign of her immiment cry. Cloise simply pets her head before lowering one of her finger under her chin, scratching it ever gently. An instant wave of warmth washes over her little child as she wipes her impending tears with a napkin from the fold of her sauce-stained apron.''

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Now, now, that part was sorted out. If you let me continue, alright?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">''Kella mumbles. unable to speak coherent words but a confirmation was defenitively clear to the two. The parents laugh a bit, Timothy walking over to the couch with the two, leaning slightly to them. Cloise once again clears her throat, about to resume...''

<p style="font-weight:400;">--

<p style="font-weight:400;">A week had passed since she had given him the invitation and it was overwhelmingly obvious he was not going to take it. Cloise sighs, grasping her bottle of water to the point of breaking. Sadness washed over her lowered face "What did I do wrong? Did I go too strong on him?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Excuse me, is that spot taken?" a voice chimes in her thought bubble.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"No. Go ahead". Cloise scotts over, feeling a light creak from besides her.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Thank you quite dearly, miss?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Miss?..." Cloise ponders her new acquaitance's question for a second "Ohh, Cloise. Cloise is fine".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Cloise, right. Thank you, miss Cloise".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Yea, don't wear it out", she responds midly.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Hmm? You seem to have a bad day today", speaks the other woman, placing her hand on Cloise's bare shoulder.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Nothing that needs to be spoken about".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Indeed not. First interaction with him and it went awry".

<p style="font-weight:400;">Cloise perks up and turns to the woman's side, seeing another bolvine with a familiar set of azur tracks. Round glasses were of the norm as well "Ohh, it was you. How much did you see?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"More than enough I assure you. Don't you worry, you just get around here on the same time you've promised him. He'll show up".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Really?" Cloise's eyes brighten up, only to cose the light inside a second after "And what he doesn't--

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Don't you worry about that! I know a way to convince him".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"You sure about that? He seemed rather disenchanted to see me" Cloise asks, her ears raising up in a dare for hope.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Oh now! No need to doubt my reading skills", she responds with a buff of confidence in her voice, placing her hand on her hips in her display.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Cloise seems hopeful, lifting her head by centimeters as the teacher proceeds to re-arrange her glasses "So, as I've mentionned, simply make sure to come back here tomorrow. I'll arrange everything else, alright?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"A-alright..." Cloise sheepishly responds, her tail wagging slighty.

<p style="font-weight:400;">The teacher shakes her head, clearly unconvinced at the sheepish response "Come now, now can do better now, can't you?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">---

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"And then what, mommy?" asks Kella, focusing her cheeks in a pout display, wanting to hear more as Cloise finishes up.''

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Long story short, she basically had me make motivational speeches in a more convincing tone, really...while lifting some more...for about a few more hours", she laughs off.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Not that!"

<p style="font-weight:400;">This time, Timothy is the one laughing at his toddler's impatience, stealing a look from Cloise "Perhaps we should call it a wrap and continue tomorrow, huh hon'?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"What?! No! I wanna know now!" Kella softy punches her dad in the chest with much repetition "I wanna know! I wanna know!"''

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Alright, alright", Timothy takes hold of her fists "To put it shortly, she had a meeting set up between us two the next week".

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"Ohh, playtime?" Kella asks.''

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"Somewhat". Cloise wavers her hand in an uncertain way, well aware of her daughter's ignorance of what a date is.''

<p style="font-weight:400;">"But dad, I thought you didn't like mommy back then?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well, after 'touching' me without my consent, she apparently found out I've had bad experiences with bolvines earlier in my life" he speaks in a dry tone "Thought after all these years of avoiding them, maybe I should reconsider. And by lord, did she insist"

<p style="font-weight:400;">Kella looks at her dad with a curious expression "Bad stuff?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"He's saying he was bullied once" Cloise says, a look of fleeting disdain in her eyes.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Ohh...."

<p style="font-weight:400;">"You think that's bad enough, wait until what comes next", he adds, putting a hand on Cloise's shoulder "Speaking of that, you still feeling anything weird here?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"No, it's completely gone hon'. Bit the bullet and never came back!" she happily says.''

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"Bit the what?" Kella interrupts, clearly oblivious.''

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"You'll see, hon'..." chuckles Cloise, once more taking Kella to sit on her knees, remeniscing once more about the time before.''

<p style="font-weight:400;">-

<p style="font-weight:400;">With a scheduled appointment for the two of them aboard a casual restaurant, Timothy had no more than to prepare himself. A promise he had, in exchange for another. One that would never be...

<p style="font-weight:400;">"I can't believe I got foiled into this..." he spits out, shooting scorn and disdain into a reflect of himself, folding the corner of his shirt. The promise of assistant at a full-fledged practiciant at a state-of-the-art medical bay was more than tempting for him to refuse, but now, he had to fully think of the fact that he was essentially funneled into a date with a 'musclehead' in a cheap way to get a quickie. He hated that.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Ugh...let's just get it over with" he spits once more, putting a coat over his shirt, and checking over his phone for the time. A small section blinked quite a few times, in red and white. A message. A tap on the screen broadcasts him with something he didn't expect. Injury!

<p style="font-weight:400;">"What?!" he speaks before thinking, sliding his finger down the screen. The woman he was to date had suffered an incident. Countless steel beams. Probable injury. Posted at the medical bay.

<p style="font-weight:400;">HIs mind his split. Part of him sought to jump in joy at the fact thaty this meant a canceled date. And with the teacher's promise, he was still eligible for an entertain with some of the best practicians. And yet...

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Damn it all, fine! I guess a visit won't hurt much..." he mutters, gathering his things before heading out. Living on the campus meant short routes to anywhere he could ever need to, being stationned at the heart of the city. A trip to the Section 5 would be a walk in the park. Literally, as it passes through the local park.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Soon enough, Timothy finds himself at the entrance of the Section 5, waltzing in with his hands in his pockets, fantasizing about his weekend with the experts. Learning, experimenting, watching them deal with the most odd cases. A sheltered smile behind one of his hand is broadcasted across his face. One that dissipates the moment he is directed toward room m-2.

<p style="font-weight:400;">He stands before the door, closed, but not locked. His eyes shift back to where he came from. Did he really need to make a visit like that? After all, his promise was only for a date. And said date had been canceled due to injury. (Probably some bold attempt on her part) he thinks. Yea, he didn't need to be here. Not at all. He turns his feet back to hence he came. He shrugs as one of his legs rises briefly forward.

<p style="font-weight:400;">One step...

<p style="font-weight:400;">...two steps...

<p style="font-weight:400;">...

<p style="font-weight:400;">His feet are frozen. Perplexed, he leans forward. No avail. Stilll frozen. "Come on! What is wrong with me?!" Try as he might, his legs refuse to budge. He is stuck here, invaded by thoughts of guilt and remorse. Why not go and say 'hi'? Can't hurt to get in for a minute after all, right? What's the worse she can do, now that she's crippled? After all, a promise is a promise, right?

<p style="font-weight:400;">Shaking his head in disgruntal, he groans in defeat and turns back to the door and places a hand on it, pushing it open as instructed by the handle. 'Push' to open.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Hello?" a familiar voice speaks from within, showering with a pint of instant regret. Too late for that, however.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Hey" he says back, stepping away from the door to take a seat besides "Heard you got into a nasty accident, thought it'd be fine to drop by for an instant"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Ohh, well thanks hon'! Didn't think you'd come by" she speaks with a bright smile, a faint blush appearing along her cheeks.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Sure...so what did they say? About that pronostic?" He wasn't sure why he went and asked that. Front what he knew, monsters were usually tougher and stronger than humans like his. Being one prized about her strength would greatly help with recovering. At least, that's what he thought. Her smile fainting as her ears erased any easy-going thought.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well..." Cloise turns his attention to her casted arm, double-dipped in an iron cast with a softerlayer within "They say most of my muscle ripped under all that impact and pressure. There were many beams over me at the time".

<p style="font-weight:400;">A solid heartbeat echoes through Timithy's entire sanguin network "B-but you'll recover, right? You're one of those strong types AND a monster all the more. Your recovery is ridiculous compared to ours. This kind of incident shouldn't make a dent on someone like you".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"That may be so, but hon', we also have our limits. Don't expect this arm of mine to be functional for quite a few moons" she says softly, her voice mired by defeat.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"No..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Funny thing is, I really looked forward to our 'us' time. Thought I'd make ament for my overly enthusiasm with some homecooked cuisine as we went along" she continues, her smile returned, tainted with gray eyes shaded in lament. Her intact hand reaches for the table besides her for a canister. A rather hefty one at that, filled to the brim with a warm soup.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"What is...?" he gets up a from the chair, walking over to Cloise to get a hold of the canister. It feels warm to hold, not too hot. Just the right temperature. Closed as it is, the lid had a small opening, allowing heat and odor to escape. The smell of spice and vegetable assaults his nostrils. Never smelled anything like that "What is this?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well, hon', what yer holdin' at is my homecooked specialty, the Desert Welcome, blended in by 5 veriety of spices, vegetables and a sauce to host them all. Thought it'd make up at least a bit for that botched up attempt at knowing ya. You know, since I've seen you walk over a few times over. Looked really like someone worth to talk to a few times".

<p style="font-weight:400;">Timothy was at a lost for words. Who in the world would instigate such interest for anyone, let alone him? And his least favorite kind to, no less. The way she spoke. The way she acted. She was strong, that was for sure. But, somehow, it didn't look like she was such a boastful kind, being freely exposing of her emotions. Part of his mind tried rationalizing this with the possible drugs they had given her. But monster are more prone to resist the side effects, right? One of the first things he learned.

<p style="font-weight:400;">No...he was wrong. Spitting in the faces of people like her in his mind for years, convinced that they'd never amount to anything but brutes obssessed with building muscle and having their ways with anyone. Only for an accident to come and shatter his frail perception in pieces, each shard a piece of pessimist thought or act he had given to one. This could no longer stand, could it?

<p style="font-weight:400;">"No...no, no no, no. No! You're not going to spend your life like this! You're not!" he spits with decibels unfamiliar to him, always used to keep his words to himself.

<p style="font-weight:400;">That sudden outburst perks Cloise up, soon returned to her defeatism "Well, I doubt you'll be doin' anything about it. The doctors were capital about this" She brands her cast in his sight.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well, too bad! Whatever it takes, I'll do it. I'm already graduating anyway, so why not? I'm already spending the week-end here with the experts, so you'll be seeing a whole lot of me".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Hold up here, hot shot! You already fufilled your end of the bargain, your teacher said--

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Forget what she said! If I am to start somewhere, why not here, huh? With you..." he contests, his hands branded to each side.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"But what about--

<p style="font-weight:400;">"I said forget it!" Timothy places his hands on each of Cloise's shoulders, taking her for a few shake "Going around watching apothecaries doing their business won't mean a damn if it means thinking of you miserable in a dusty room with a bunch of phoneys speaking their mouths off without attempting jack! I'll spend the damn summer here if I have to. Hell, I'll file in for a post here if it means more opportunities to check up on you!"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Wait, wait--

<p style="font-weight:400;">"No...no, no, no, it's decided, I'm going to to everything in my power to fix that arm of yours, whatever time it takes! Nothing you have to say will change my mind!"

<p style="font-weight:400;">Cloise looks up to his eyes, shot back with a steel of will. A large sum of her doubted greatly about his ability to help her recover. Only for the large part to be swept down the rug by her tiny heart. She believed him...

<p style="font-weight:400;">And so, with Timothy's graduation, an immediate candidature is filed straight for the Section 5 medical bay. Exactly during his weekend with those he admired. His little shouting session had not gone unnoticed, prompting one of them to walk over to her, with advanced pronostics and possible manners of recovery. All explained to Timothy, as he was systemically handed the files for her medical papers. Everything he was to know about her consitution, health condition, available to him.

<p style="font-weight:400;">As days passed, it was clear Timothy was going to make good on his boast, beginning some experimental work involving sgements of demonic energy to mend over her permanent damaged arm. Days by days.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Week by week.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Month by month.

<p style="font-weight:400;">After a year, the treatment was starting to make effects. Cloise's arm had healed up for appromivatively half of its force, mass and consitution. The cast had no more use to her, although re-learning to effectively use her hand was also part of the chore. A chore made easy as Timothy accompanied her each day, everytime work would let up on him for but minutes.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Each night, he'd come to her waiting on him with the same canister of soup he became accustomed to, since she was given the rights to access to the kitchen after certainty that her current recovery was permanent. All of it culmunating to the end of the second year aboard the Section 5.

<p style="font-weight:400;">A final test for Cloise to affirm her strength had come back. Her and Timothy returned to the Bull Ranch, one thing in mind. Standing across her established training area, he watches as Cloise effortlessly manages to lift a bar of 2 tons and a half, his eyes threatening to bulge out or their orbits "Wait, since when could you ever lift this much?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Hehe. Hon', to be honest, up until that point, my maximum was 1 ton and a half", she grins with with pride at his awe, throwing the lift several meters in the air before catching with with no issues...except for the floor underneath left with a huge fissure.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"What?! Hold on, no way this little recovery had doubled your strength. It was aimed at recuperation!" he speaks, trying to find logic over this.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well, seems you put more than you've thought, hon'. Speakin' of which..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">A loud thumb revebrates under the surrounding people's as she drops the bar, punishing the floor further with dents and cracks. waltzing over to her aid with a sultry hips sway, she takes his hand in her and starts running, forcing his legs to keep up "...gotta show you somethin', dear".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Hold on! At least let me get comfortable with that pace!"

<p style="font-weight:400;">Minutes later, the two stopped by the river coast in the evening, Cloise closing her hands together in admiration of the orange sunlight. Timothy gasping for air after that marathon, his hands on his knees breating like someone about to die. Going back at her home for a quick attire change didn't help his case, thought the view was more than worth it.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Sporting a casual sweater and jeans, both in marroon, Timothy had the help of the setting sun to admire her forms, being the hair she bears, a short cut coated in black. A messy hairstyle, both womanly and tomboyish, that he does not understand how it's possible. Her hips adorned with that overly excited tail seeping left and right. The tiny black dots that are lovely structured across her cheeks. Unfortunately, his eyes inadvertly wandered on her chest, once again prompting his mind to ask how could someone composed of 90% muscle could afford to sport such a heavy chest, and she was barely taller than him. Probably 10 centimeters or so.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Of course, turning over to face him had her notice, even more so as the sweater was an open cleavage "Ohh, carryin' wandering eyes, are we?" A grin stretches on her face, with hoovers carrying sand on each step.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"No, no no! Just admiring the sunset like you are!" Timothy tries to divert, looking as far as possible ahead of him.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Oh yea? Then why are you lookin' over to my rack?" she teasingly asks, as the man only now notices that she was standing in front of him. Even more unfortunate for him to realize that he stared at her cleavage like a moth attracted to a lamp after her voice snapping him out of his staring trance. In mere centimeters away from him, to the point where he could easily reach out to touch them.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Only now noticing this, Timothy jumps like a startled cat, gaining a bit of a distance for comfort "Y-you were in front of the sun! It's not my fault my eyes ended down here for a second!"

<p style="font-weight:400;">Once again, Cloise approches more, countering his distance "Darlin', a second is not how we say a minute".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Lies!" He clears his throat, taking hold of his bags to put something between their respective chests "A-anyway..." Timothy starts stuttering, all aware of Cloise's chest blatanly pushing on the bag he placed in interception "S-since you don't need those things anymore, I-I guess I'll just go place them back..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">Slowly, he takes a step back, his mind spiking with the warm sensation of her vuluptous size still washed over his front. Turning to get a sprinting commenced, this sensation is now tingling in  pulses on his back this time, accompanied by hands who now had pulled up their sleeves and felt like silks gently nested around his neck "Hum...w-what is...? What are you doing?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well, since you've turned away, hon', I'm giving you a hug from behind. Why did ya think I've brought us here?" She grins, leaning on him slightly more.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well, a sunset?" he asks regrettably, a bell on his mind buzzing with the low-pitch of an incorrect answer.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Oh yes, darlin', I've brought you here in the shores with one of my favorite molding sweater with careful consideration as to let you get a full view of my chest with no restrains, across the shores, with no one else, during sunset just to watch a flamin' ball of heat set down". Her voice is toned with the high pitch of sarcasm, though devoid of the sting that comes with those.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Instead, a giggles escapes her lips, nesting her chin over one of his shoulder "You know, I never gave you anything back for all those years of support. Most would likely have given up at this point".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"W-well, you know..." Timothy's speech is still impeded by the warmth washing over his back, the thick coat of the medic comparable to wearing a suit of paper, unable to dispel the sensation "I just did what anyone with empathy would have done, if possible".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"That you did, darlin'. Gals like me rarely have occasions to meet gents' like you are. Monsters like me, even more so. So, tell you what hon', it's about high time I've offered you a reward".

<p style="font-weight:400;">Timothy can feel the wrapping tail of the lass hugging him from behind on one of his leg, like an animal displaying an immense affection. With his mind threading on the border of the obvious as to what that reward was, he still dares to ask "What reward?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well..." Her head still acoasted on his chin, she slightly turns to his ear, creeping closer. He could smell the spice he tasted in her cantine from her breath, mixed with something sweet, perhaps. "...how about you turn around and find out?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">Teasing him, because rubbing her chest on his back was not enough. Exactly like a dare, one that, just like the first time they've meet, she is not willing to take a refusal. The years passed behind them corroded his ability to give said refusal, hastened by her sweeter demeanor and contagious personality of a pumpous gal, unshackled by the lazy nature of her kind.

<p style="font-weight:400;">So, slowly, one of hie feet leaves the sand it stands on, spinning in a 180-degree turn. The spring reaching all over his body, shifting it as well, his head the last to en entangled by the turn. In an instant, two hands gently clamp on his wrists, to bring his arms up. His palms, assaulted by a soft feeling on each centimeter. Cloise's cheeks turn crimson with a faint brush, undettered by this surge of heat with her grin still very present.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Many of them boys walked over in the Bull Ranch, looking like dogs waiting on a spitroast cookin'. Lookin' is fine, hon', but since I've already offered you my heart on a silver platter, just starin' ain't gonna cut it anymore".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Wait, wait, wait! This is hasty! You're probably comming under a side effect".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Can't be a side effet if I've been feelin' it for those years, hon'. Besides, considering your breathing right now I'm thinking you must coming to your terms as well over that. But in case it ain't enough..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">Releasing his wrists, her hands gather behind his neck, locking the confused man firmly in place. Protestations spouting from his side are cut off with a deep affectionate kiss from Cloise. Her eyes are closed, fully taking on this intimacy, increasing the reddening of her cheeks, in the same vibe as his own blush. His hands go to reach her waist, dropping whatever remaining doubt was in his mind...

<p style="font-weight:400;">

<p style="font-weight:400;">''"So you see why we hold our dear little canister around, sweet pie?" finishes Cloise, only to see her little calf hands clenched sleeping on her lap.''

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Hmm, seems like she's been more tired than expected" he shoots out, petting her gently.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Maybe I should stop letting her try to lift my old stuff downstairs".

<p style="font-weight:400;">Timothy entangles his hands around Kella, lifting her up to him "Well, she does look up to what you did once, with all those 'shiny cups' she calls them".

<p style="font-weight:400;">''Cloise glances at the inumerable trophies gathered and spotless on the shelf, soon getting up to put the canister back on top of them all. Her noses twitch a bit, hearing the water boiling in the kitchen "Yea, perhaps. But, our lil' calf will probably want to know why this one is so important compared to the rest. Guessin' she won't really get it until she gets a calf of her own..."''