In his dream, he is running; he is always running. Long, ground-swallowing lopes, legs stretched and breath coming in deep, gulping pants. He is splattered up his legs and across his belly with the dark mud of the swamp, drying around the edges, still wet and slick across his hooves and dripping from the tip of his tail.
The first sting comes as a surprise, the plant taller than in should be, the fine hairs across the leaf catching in his own fur and clutching at him. It is joined by a second, grabbing like hands, bright against the grey-brown of the swamp, and the sensation is enough to slow his fevered run.
He turns, slowly, to look behind him, leaves clutching and scraping and pulling and sticking, and finds himself in the midst of a field of nettle: hundreds, thousands of the plants, packed so closely that he can hardly see through them, growing twice or three times as tall as they should. They fill the distance to the horizon, even more of them sticking against his sides, pulling mud from his fur, like fingers.
Again he turns, to continue his run, stretching his neck, but the plants hold him fast. They have clutched up his legs, across his flanks, have reached slender leaves up over his throat. They sting, yes, but it is familiar, somehow. The ache is sweet, healing. It is lulling.
They put him to sleep as they pull him down into their midst.
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Personality
Nettle strives for order, for logic, for common sense, and has a tendency to scoff at trivialities like
fun and
laughter. He has a pinched sort of mouth that is not prone to smiles and eyes that are almost constantly narrowed.
In short, he's that crotchety old man who thinks his pessimism is a good lesson for optimistic youths.
Of course, he's also solitary and quiet and -- there's not a whole lot in his life. He spends his days alone looking, perhaps, for some kind of wisdom and some kind of order in the chaos of the swamps.
Relationships
Mates
Nettle is unlikely to ever have children, being that he is as queer as a three dollar bill. But I dare you to try.
Children
CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM WITH KIDS!?
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RP
Nettle's RPs
[*]
Crocodile Hunter - and be blue & Eifle Closed
[*]
A catalogue [Nettle & Wildflower Breeze!] FINISHED
[*]
The Day of the Dead | From Bloody Ashes & Nettle Closed
[*]
Watch your Step! [Nettle & Stargarden] FINISHED
[*]
Unstoppable Force vs. Unmovable Object [Nettle & Burning Bright] Closed
[*]
Fickle Blessings [Nettle & Breathless] FINISHED
[*]
A Thorny Problem [Nettle & Spring Peeper] OPEN
[*]
Careful, it bites [Nettle & Heavy Sleep] OPEN
[*]
In deep [Turn to Ash + Nettle] FINISHED, Nettle negotiates a favor.
Plot Ideas
[*]Pack of youngsters teasing/tormenting/playing with Nettle
[*]I'm always open for Plotting! PM me with ideas!
Storytelling
SPOOKY GHOST STORY wrote:[imgleft]
http://matope.eclectic-blue.com/nettle.gif[/imgleft]The night was dark, cool, the swamp quiet but for the rush of wind through cat tails, the soft sound of crickets, and the giggling, in the distance, of several children out playing late.
Lit by moonlight, Nettle looked silver and grey, the orange patches on his coat muted out to desaturated fuzzy patches, his beard halfway glowing. He had enough reputation for being a crazy old man as it was -- the mood lighting just made it that much
worse.
Especially since, at the moment, his eyes were wide and his voice rumbling, telling some horrifying tale, "...just like tonight, several youngsters were trotting through the swamps, laughing and looking backwards instead of watching their feet..."
It was clear, from his expression, that Nettle was
very serious about this. A terrible story, clearly ghosts and zombies and witchcraft were going to make an appearance at any second. There was something almost wild about his expression, about the way he danced and shifted and shook out his mane. "...when out of nowhere appeared...A ROCK."
A pause. Clearly he'd been expecting some screams. None occurred. So he scowled, going more still, head tipped to the side and locking eyes with one of the youngsters. "Well, you'll think it's scary when
you fall and break your neck! Don't run in the dark!"
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Pets/Familiars
- male
- male
Victories and Failures
The number of Kimeti who:
Nettle has made cry: 1
Nettle has publicly humiliated: 2
Nettle scared the piss out of: 1
Have gotten the upper hand on Nettle: 2
Have a bizarre crush on him!?: 1
- male
- no gender yet.
- no gender yet
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