The Girl Who Could Fly
09-19-2016, 03:39 PM
On his hunt to find Peregrine, he made his way back to the range where he had set up shop for a bit. The grey marked man had left some of his personal stock there, but he just sat and stared at it. He didn't have a home right now, but he didn't feel like coming back to this place. It was an already set up garden, and he felt like he was stealing. Without somewhere to go though, he was unsure of what to do with everything. Alone once again, since Cedar was off trying to find the chocolate female as well, he grabbed his items and headed towards the degraded barn. His ears were flat against his head, a sad look in his teal eyes. For now, Oleander would store his things where they would remain dry, he was planning to tuck them under the wooden planks that made up parts of the strange elevated ground. When he reached the building though, he realized that he was not alone. He blinked at the red and white female, standing there frozen for several moments. He was such an awkward wolf, and because of the mood he was in he wasn't in the mood for interactions. So he just dipped his head and walked past, unable to speak with the bundle of herbs and seeds in his jaws. He marched right passed the stranger, hopping up on the last bits of sheltered area and digging at the ground. He was able to pry up one of the floorboards with ease, and he dropped his fur wrapped bundle under it. Stomping his paw back down on it, he leaned down and dragged his teeth across the wood until he dug little rivits in it. This way, he wouldn't forget where he had stashed his things. Hopefully the fur would hide the scent, keeping rodents off of it until he found a more permanent place to start his own garden. The fur on his back stood up slightly in unease, having a feeling that he was being watched. Looking over his shoulder, he glanced at the female once more. He was bad at any conversation, but with the opposite sex... well that made it even harder. His tail wagged a few times behind him, but it was slightly tucked in his unease. Not sure what else to do, he looked back at his paws and dug his nails through the lines he had made with his teeth. Oleander just stood there and played with the scores in the wood, if she wanted to talk she would have to start things up. There was no way in hell that Ollie would start things. "SPEAK" -- "CEDAR SPEAKS" |
Oleander speaks Latin, but is fluent in English. Cedar is a black backed jackal and is always with Ollie unless otherwise stated.