Mar 6, 2022 20:51:23 GMT -6
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 | [attr="class","grTextTop"] I'M NOT GOING ANYMORE DAYS [attr="class","grTextSub"] WASTING MY LIFE LAYING AROUND AND DOING NOTHING, INSTEAD, I WILL BE LIVING EVERY DAY TO THE FULLEST I CAN! THIS IS MY LIFE! |
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Rough tumbles were not uncommon for the young, blond-haired man. Through his youth, Jagger grew adjusted to the endless bumps and bruises of life. An inevitability of life, and chronic clumsiness at seemingly every turn. The young angel was accident-prone, nothing severe, but enough to assure these small wounds would occur. Rarely was Jagger genuinely bothered by receiving injuries, especially of this callibre. He survived broken and fractured bones from the worst of incidents alongside his fair share of nasty cuts that required constant attention.
[break][break]
Thus, the bubbling laughter from the depths of his throat was a natural reaction to the goofy manner he tumbled. These painful sensations were minimal compared to the laundry list of incidents tangled in his history. He attempted to lift himself from the ground, the blond entirely complacent with accepting the consequences of clumsiness and injury-pronity. The teen hardly glanced about, until the sharp tug of his plant-covered friend tugged him back into a sitting position. The tone of her golden eyes mingled with her expression made what she communicated clear; he was not allowed to rise yet.
[break][break]
An awkward, soft heh escaped Jagger’s closed lips as his expression shifted into apologetic. Thus, he listened to Wolma, eyes wandering until arms wrapped around him. His countenance shifted to shock as his brilliant blue eyes flitted. Obliviousness filled him as the blond smiled lightly and slowly returned the hug. He thought it was accomplished out of care and worry. There were plenty of people who grew attached quickly, and Jagger was not in the department to pass judgment.
[break][break]
“Hey, don’t worry, Wolma! I’m alright, a couple bumps and bruises won’t stop me,” Jagger comforted quietly.
[break][break]
When she reached for something on the ground, Jagger pulled away, confusion on his expression. Within the woman’s hands was a small tortoise discovered in the grass. The blond tilted his head slightly to the side, wondering what the man’s plan was. Shortly, her hands grasped his, the warmth of her magic tingling through his flesh.
[break][break]
“What are ya doing, Wolma?” He asked quietly.
[break][break]
The young angel still lacked a firm grasp as to Wolma’s capabilities, however, she was accomplishing something. Afterwards, an unfamiliar word graced his ears, but his friend’s expression spoke volumes. A gentle uh left the blond’s lips as he laughed in an awkward, soft voice.
[break][break]
“Sorry, Wolma,” he responded quietly.
[break][break]
The blond disliked worrying his friends about his well-being. It was never intentional, rather, he always proved injury-prone in practice! Even in a cushioned room, Jagger could discover a way to receive an injury because of his clumsiness.
Rough tumbles were not uncommon for the young, blond-haired man. Through his youth, Jagger grew adjusted to the endless bumps and bruises of life. An inevitability of life, and chronic clumsiness at seemingly every turn. The young angel was accident-prone, nothing severe, but enough to assure these small wounds would occur. Rarely was Jagger genuinely bothered by receiving injuries, especially of this callibre. He survived broken and fractured bones from the worst of incidents alongside his fair share of nasty cuts that required constant attention.
[break][break]
Thus, the bubbling laughter from the depths of his throat was a natural reaction to the goofy manner he tumbled. These painful sensations were minimal compared to the laundry list of incidents tangled in his history. He attempted to lift himself from the ground, the blond entirely complacent with accepting the consequences of clumsiness and injury-pronity. The teen hardly glanced about, until the sharp tug of his plant-covered friend tugged him back into a sitting position. The tone of her golden eyes mingled with her expression made what she communicated clear; he was not allowed to rise yet.
[break][break]
An awkward, soft heh escaped Jagger’s closed lips as his expression shifted into apologetic. Thus, he listened to Wolma, eyes wandering until arms wrapped around him. His countenance shifted to shock as his brilliant blue eyes flitted. Obliviousness filled him as the blond smiled lightly and slowly returned the hug. He thought it was accomplished out of care and worry. There were plenty of people who grew attached quickly, and Jagger was not in the department to pass judgment.
[break][break]
“Hey, don’t worry, Wolma! I’m alright, a couple bumps and bruises won’t stop me,” Jagger comforted quietly.
[break][break]
When she reached for something on the ground, Jagger pulled away, confusion on his expression. Within the woman’s hands was a small tortoise discovered in the grass. The blond tilted his head slightly to the side, wondering what the man’s plan was. Shortly, her hands grasped his, the warmth of her magic tingling through his flesh.
[break][break]
“What are ya doing, Wolma?” He asked quietly.
[break][break]
The young angel still lacked a firm grasp as to Wolma’s capabilities, however, she was accomplishing something. Afterwards, an unfamiliar word graced his ears, but his friend’s expression spoke volumes. A gentle uh left the blond’s lips as he laughed in an awkward, soft voice.
[break][break]
“Sorry, Wolma,” he responded quietly.
[break][break]
The blond disliked worrying his friends about his well-being. It was never intentional, rather, he always proved injury-prone in practice! Even in a cushioned room, Jagger could discover a way to receive an injury because of his clumsiness.
[attr="class","grInfo"]Wolma Natur || 431 words
[attr="class","grCredits"]TAIKO!
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