Recent content by Colonel Harvon M. Jere

The Colonel's broad shoulders slumped slightly at the vixen's words, knowing she was saying goodbye. "You are a fine, strong and worthy woman, Minister Rainblade." The todd told her, fighting to keep his tone even, now, as her paw slipped from his shoulder. "If you change your mind... you know...

"It is not easy." The Colonel admitted. "But to be so familiar with death as we are, with that assured end always waiting just beyond... one must learn to make their peace with it. The dead do not suffer, do not struggle. It is the duty of the living to shoulder their burden, to do what they...

The thrill in the todd decreased as he instantly sensed the vixen's tension, that tell-tale scent of fear, that sharp "Shut up!" that cut through the quiet. How disappointing, he thought, that the Minister of Misanthropy could not appreciate a good cemetery. The Colonel held her close to him...

At the arm squeeze and her emphasis on joining him as a vixen rather than as a minister, the Colonel's head swam a moment with possibilities and his mouth went a touch dry. This charming woman may be wanting more and sooner from him than he even expected, though suggesting she'd like to borrow...

The Colonel's old heart fluttered a bit in a way it hadn't in... well, a very long time, as the Minister's arm slipped through his and he held her gallantly to him. The cross fox returned the veiled smile, with his own touch of fox slyness amongst the warmth that showed on his gray-peppered...

@Duchess Dusk Rainblade The Colonel's green eyes studied her closely, brow raising as the vixen remarked on intimate foreign customs, downed his leftovers, and gave him a smile that sent a shiver down his spine and put a lump in his throat the like he hadn't felt in a long time. Thoughts of lost...

@Duchess Dusk Rainblade The old fox shifted his eyes to the Minister of Misanthropy, and the ends of his long muzzle curved into a small smile. "You are ever the endless trove of schemes, Minister Rainblade." He said, his low, gruff voice rising somewhat to be heard over the ruckus of the...

Colonel Jere strode through the crowd in his usual full regalia, chestful of medals swinging and sabre at his side. Many of the folks kicked up quiet a racket as they thrashed and moaned and boozed, shook their fists at the sky, cried "Why, world, WHY?" and got poorly-made tattoos of their lost...

The Colonel thanked the lad and took a careful sip from the tea, letting it soothe his throat in between the puffs on the cigar. It was a fine beverage, but only further added to his growing... spiritual disagreement. A veteran of M.A.U.L., welcome in the home of Miklarians. For all his talk of...

The Colonel tipped his head and took another pull on the cigar, curious about what the jovial marten intended to say but pleasantly surprised at his appreciation. "Yes." the fox said in a puff of smoke. "But not originally. I hail from a place called Mesmeros, an island nation far to the west...

The Colonel nodded with a small smile to the Furotazzi at the golden fox's remark. "Please do." he said, and his green eyes glided over the big fox for a moment. "You are very handsome. Yes, the Imperium has changed immensely since my first days to Her golden shores. Our... tastes, were not...

The Colonel crooked an eyebrow at the suddenly much more interesting conversation. Even the military had its secret society of what was termed "molls", pansies, sapphists and the like. The Navy also, but they were legendarily far worse at hiding it. Colonel Jere had been known on occasion to...

The old fox looked pleasedly over the little shop, its pretty clothes, its neat, organized chaos, his brush tail wagging slightly. As he walked to the center of the room, he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the dresses, shirts and trousers, the bolts of silk, flax and cotton, the...

The fox looked over the young one who was so certain on what he wanted, or thought he wanted, at least; Jere knew Aran's mind might change once he was made to part from his family for training, or when he saw combat for the first time... by then, however, it would be too late. The Imperial Army...

"Hm." The Colonel looked over the humble little shop, painted in its pleasing Miklarian yellow, and felt his heart twinge. How many of the soldiers who'd met his blade or died under his command came from places like this, from families that loved them and waited with baited breath for their...