jungsxjung:

Scrunching her nose she raised her feet off the ground, however the still uncomfortable feeling of her feet being soaked didn’t go away which was the reason she lowered her legs again, the said action being rewarded with a squeak coming from her shoes and she groaned. ”This is why I don’t like rain if I’m not home or have an umbrella with me.”

Turning her head to the side to look at the other she had to bite back a chuckle at his appearance. The damp hair sticking to his face making his facial expression that clearly showed his discontent making it that much funnier to her even though she knew she herself wasn’t much better than him. ”I think your hair is turning grey instead of falling out.” Her words were followed by a laugh. ”Are you trying a new imagine by changing your hair color?” She teased, a grin curling up on her features.

Looking in front of them she watched as the heavy rain continued to pour down seemingly unstoppable. Slumping back she crossed her arms over her stomach, her bottom lip sticking out a bit in what seemed as dislike. ”I dunno. You’re the older one. You need to know things.”

He flicked disdainfully at his hair, where in the strands of his bangs dripped; rainwater had decided to trickle down and into his eyes. He felt only slightly less drowned than what he assumed a drowned rat would feel like– drowned, in the sense that he hadn’t actually drowned and died, but he was miserable. That was it. Let his shoes implode on the rain water they loved to soak up! That was okay, because why not?

But at the young elk’s words he could only gasp, whip his head to look at her before scrambling for his phone (had it been damaged by the wet?) to press damp fingers and open up the face-cam. In the image that presented itself he began to angle it every which way. “Is it greying right now? Do I have wrinkles? This, this–” It was happening much sooner than he expected, and if he sat still enough he might just be able to feel his skin pruning up, but–

“Leave me here, I can’t move– these bones are too old. Go, survive! Hunt for the pack!” He twisted and turned, hummed and hawed in an attempt to get the other to abandon him in his (metaphorical) throes of death.