To Hell in a Blizzard
01-02-2016, 03:51 PM
Okay so, patience was not her strong suite, at all. She tried, but it was something that was very difficult for her. Even as a child she had none of it, which often got her into a lot of trouble. And now, it would seem that she had potential to get herself into even more of it. Flicking her tail back and forth she took a deep breath, trying really hard to focus on not getting frustrated. It wasn't his fault that he didn't speak the same language as her, although she was unsure why. Sere knew that there were wolves who traveled to this place from all over, she had run into one other woman who spoke French, but it was all sort of nonsense to her. Why come here and not know the language? It seemed foolish, and made her want to put more of the blame on the male. English was spoken primarily here, although she could say that he might have come here and not known that that was the case. Sighing at her inner battle, she shook her red clad head and tried her best to focus on the dark brute. This was going to take patience on both their end, but so far, he was winning. At her gesture he seemed to understand, muttering some crap before stating her name again. She could only guess that it was a formal 'nice to meet you' or whatever it was that wolves said to each other these days. Oh gosh that made her sound old. Trying to shut off her inner monologue she watched as he uncovered his paws to point at his own chest, more strange words followed by what she could only assume was his name. "Basileus?" she replied back softly, the foreign name sounding very last luster spoken from her own tongue. "Can I call you Basil?" she asked. Sere had no intention of stumbling over his name every time she wanted to refer to him about something, besides she had butchered it anyways. It sounded a lot nicer when he said it, hell even her own name sounded better when he spoke. Maybe this strange language wasn't such a bad thing after all, it was rather pretty. When she asked if he knew English, his reply made her chuckle. It was obvious that his vocabulary was small indeed, the words that left his maw weren't really the most proper. Not that she was a pompous ass who only spoke like royalty, but at least it gave her something to focus on rather than their lack of communication skills. When he asked her something she paused, head tilting to the side as her ember gaze studied him. She could tell from the pitch of his voice that it was indeed a question, but she really had to think about what he had said. Parla sounded a lot like the word the French woman used when she had asked if she had spoken any of her language, so Serefina took a stab at it. Italiano must be the language that he spoke. It sounded like a plant to her. Slowly she shook her head from side to side, at a loss for what to really ask him. So instead she just fell silent, shuffling on her paws for a moment while she thought. What were they going to do? "Um... are you lost?" She asked, turning around to gesture at the storm outside. Maybe he didn't even know where he was. Her words were spoken a touch slower than she normally spoke, although it was not intentional. At least she wasn't yelling in his ears like he was deaf. Turning back to him she eyed his body again, a small smirk touching her lips. "You look like you fight. You know, fight!" She said, standing up slowly and putting herself in a fighters pose, tossing a mock growl his way. When she settled back down Serefina laughed, he probably thought that he had pissed her off. "Fight." She said again, shrugging her shoulders. Hey, at least she was trying. |
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