#//also not having kong 1 on 1 time is hurtin' him

[simiansmoke]

He'd been gone three weeks tops, but from the reaction of other Kongs when they noticed him out and about again, it could've been a year. Though generally their first response to seeing him was 'you look like shit' before getting into hype mode. And truth be told, he did in fact 'look like shit'.

The collar having squeezed his neck for so long left what looked like a permanent hat-line around his neck-fur. Surely it would fluff back out later, but it was holding stubborn for now. The bite on his shoulder was starting to heal, but his arm - despite being rammed back into its socket, still didn't look...quite right somehow. The large bruise on his pec was swelling a darker purple than before and he couldn't keep mudding it without letting it get some fresh air to heal up. And according to most, and most vocally - Cranky, he was looking too thin and needed to go make himself about fifty sandwiches.

Given how the Darklands didn't exactly come stocked with a plethora of fruits and vegetables, and not much grain either...he'd out right refused to eat most nights. Sure, he'd grab something when he was in another kingdom, but it wasn't his usual calorie load, and he must have lost about fifty pounds. Which sucked balls because he'd been working on putting on at least another two hundred before the next wrestling season. His bulk sabotaged, he planned on getting a pretty large serving at the mess hall after a long soak in the hot springs dulled his aches.

Sitting in front of practically a mountain of food courtesy of his Dad's strict order pushed forward to the cafeteria line, he sighed, face in hand and elbow propped up on table as he surveyed the spread. His stomach had gotten used to being asleep, so he was trying to work up some kind of ravenous feeling to help him get back on track. Still...the thought of him missing the mark of not just the wrestling season, but of the likely impending war made him lose his appetite all over again. That plus... his face turned an indignant shade of pink as he poked at a banana leaf plate of rice. How many of his friends did he chase away during his collared cruelty? It was like waking up from a daze, whiskey scented breath and a list of people that were once good friends - now turned venomous enemies at whatever you stupidly and senselessly said to them the night prior. "...well I guess everyone hates me now. Fun!"