Post by Tarzan on Sept 12, 2019 17:41:19 GMT
(January 26th, closed to Jane Porter and Tarzan for husband and wife to catch up!)
The Great Forest’s tree branches were marked with the tiny talon niches of little birds. Nothing more hefty than Friend Owl had ever bent their great arms for generations of the deer herds.
In the early morning, they swung, leaves rattling indignantly, under the weight of a speeding man in a loincloth.
Well, part of a loincloth, mostly half a hyena skin. January in this part of the new world was colder than anything Tarzan had ever experienced outside of damp caves and mountainous rivers. As he swung, sun dappling his rippling muscles, the gorilla family leader sniffed.
The scents here were growing more familiar. At first, after the Enchanted Suns moved to this wooded area, he was even wilder a man for curiosity. No traces of Booto’s horn against the trunks, which grew so pale and wide and straight. No curling branches disguised as snakes, no welcoming moss to slide on, no vines dangling. Instead, scruffier brush like the tails of birds. Paths worn by generations of deer, who seemed to get all the respect in this land. Wide open meadows, like savannah, but more peaceful. Sparkling streams with no thick muds, no musk of elephant herds on any of the floating plants—which were different than the ones at home, too. If there hadn’t been a war going on, Tarzan would’ve swung and leaped his way to every new creature and plant in this Great Forest by now. Still, with places like Arendelle to visit and the bustling army to meet, he was almost used to it.
A good thing, too. Tarzan’s keen nose was on the hunt for one smell in particular today. It was normally a mixture of sun-warmed feathers, charcoal, and something sweeter than any fruit. It was the aroma he liked best in the world, even over Kala’s earthy, nest-like musk. As he caught wind of it and adjusted course through the leafy canopy, Tarzan’s heart sped up. Jane.
Every time he saw her, it was looking at the diamond rocks in the mountain at home. Turning and looking to see a new, fascinating, sparkling facet every time. He’d seen half-leopard men, magical staffs, dinosaur underworlds, healing white gorillas, and exploding volcanos. Nothing was as interesting, or half so beautiful, as his wife.
Tarzan landed silently and crouched upon a low-hanging limb. The leaves and shadow concealed his impressive body. In the clearing below was the object of his big heart’s affection. She was always so interested in everything she did—sketching, talking, looking at things. Not like Terk, who fell asleep when she sat still too long. Not like Teeka or Mumka, who were only interested in what they could eat and flirt with. Not like Tantor, who got afraid of anything new. It was wonderful. Especially because he could usually startle her, and he liked it when she laughed and scolded him.
There were no vines to bounce from here, so he’d have to surprise his mate with a different tactic. Still upside-down, though. Upside-down was the most fun. He had a few pages, sacrilegously torn from a book in Arendelle, crinkled in the grip between two toes. This didn’t stop Tarzan from hooking his ankles around the branch’s bulk and swinging in one fluid swoop so that his face hung, suddenly, and with a great rustle of leaves, right in front of her pretty one. “Hello!” He barked cheerfully, green eyes alight with mischief.
Upside down, of course.
(Tagging Persephone )
The Great Forest’s tree branches were marked with the tiny talon niches of little birds. Nothing more hefty than Friend Owl had ever bent their great arms for generations of the deer herds.
In the early morning, they swung, leaves rattling indignantly, under the weight of a speeding man in a loincloth.
Well, part of a loincloth, mostly half a hyena skin. January in this part of the new world was colder than anything Tarzan had ever experienced outside of damp caves and mountainous rivers. As he swung, sun dappling his rippling muscles, the gorilla family leader sniffed.
The scents here were growing more familiar. At first, after the Enchanted Suns moved to this wooded area, he was even wilder a man for curiosity. No traces of Booto’s horn against the trunks, which grew so pale and wide and straight. No curling branches disguised as snakes, no welcoming moss to slide on, no vines dangling. Instead, scruffier brush like the tails of birds. Paths worn by generations of deer, who seemed to get all the respect in this land. Wide open meadows, like savannah, but more peaceful. Sparkling streams with no thick muds, no musk of elephant herds on any of the floating plants—which were different than the ones at home, too. If there hadn’t been a war going on, Tarzan would’ve swung and leaped his way to every new creature and plant in this Great Forest by now. Still, with places like Arendelle to visit and the bustling army to meet, he was almost used to it.
A good thing, too. Tarzan’s keen nose was on the hunt for one smell in particular today. It was normally a mixture of sun-warmed feathers, charcoal, and something sweeter than any fruit. It was the aroma he liked best in the world, even over Kala’s earthy, nest-like musk. As he caught wind of it and adjusted course through the leafy canopy, Tarzan’s heart sped up. Jane.
Every time he saw her, it was looking at the diamond rocks in the mountain at home. Turning and looking to see a new, fascinating, sparkling facet every time. He’d seen half-leopard men, magical staffs, dinosaur underworlds, healing white gorillas, and exploding volcanos. Nothing was as interesting, or half so beautiful, as his wife.
Tarzan landed silently and crouched upon a low-hanging limb. The leaves and shadow concealed his impressive body. In the clearing below was the object of his big heart’s affection. She was always so interested in everything she did—sketching, talking, looking at things. Not like Terk, who fell asleep when she sat still too long. Not like Teeka or Mumka, who were only interested in what they could eat and flirt with. Not like Tantor, who got afraid of anything new. It was wonderful. Especially because he could usually startle her, and he liked it when she laughed and scolded him.
There were no vines to bounce from here, so he’d have to surprise his mate with a different tactic. Still upside-down, though. Upside-down was the most fun. He had a few pages, sacrilegously torn from a book in Arendelle, crinkled in the grip between two toes. This didn’t stop Tarzan from hooking his ankles around the branch’s bulk and swinging in one fluid swoop so that his face hung, suddenly, and with a great rustle of leaves, right in front of her pretty one. “Hello!” He barked cheerfully, green eyes alight with mischief.
Upside down, of course.
(Tagging Persephone )
