in a little green boat
"Orica," The she-wolf offered promptly. Seemingly happy to do so, and with a slight dip of the head. An old fashioned custom among wolves, perhaps showing something of the old bloodline she belonged to. Or at least of mannered upbringing. "A healer of a distant, nomad pack, though these days I wander mostly on my own. Pleased to make your accquaintence, Aki, I'm sure." And indeed she was. He was big, this male, this mammoth of a wolf. From a little distance Orica doubted she'd come up to his belly. Well, no,that was a bit much. But she was only a fraction of his size. Yet there was no fear in her scent nor masked in her eyes - which had never learned anything of guile. She'd been the runt of a huge family. Hieght reminded her of home and puphood. THe male here was no larger than her sire, Gargoyle, had been, though such size was a rarity among wolves. Aki did have two things that Gargoyle didn't, however, those tusks, and a tail. She'd often heard the story of how a bear had taken his in infancy.
Truth be told she had a bit of a weakness for large, grey males with glowing eyes. What could she say? She had a history. You know, and eyes. But the such fluttering thoughts were blown away by the gusts of the coming storm. There was the flighty and childlike and sunshine-bright in her, but there was the wisedom of a wanderer and the practically of a healer. In situations like this it was the latter that took the forefront. Interestingly, the thoughts still lingered over that fluffy grey coat, but more with a touch of jealousy. No wonder he barely noticed the weather. She was long furred herself. She had the genes for northern weather, but her last years had babied her, however much she wanted to think the negative. Her healer side was too realistic not to admit it.
And on that note, cetainly, thought ought to be given as to the sort of wolf she was inviting in. When meeting new people, the she-wolf often kept any thoughts and assumptions to herself. There were too many kinds of wolves to think she'd seen them all. She hadn't quite lost the knack of thinking the best of people at first glance, but she was no longer young and illusioned enough to think she wouldn't be proven wrong many times. It was just easier that way. Didn't make much difference if you greeted the world thinking everyone was your friend - or no one was. She was a lover, not a fighter, and hadn't a prayer in any confrontation that didn't include an escape route. All of which she'd come to terms with long ago. Healers don't fear death for themselves.
She made way for the male as he took his steps inside. She'd be happy to lead the way or fall in step beside him as pace and space allowed. "There's a room to the far back of these 'caverns'," -Only the last word said a bit doubtfully- "Its well out of the wind and probably best for weathering the storm. I was just about to hunker down and perhaps sleep for a bit-" She caught up to herself a little. "-But of course, do as you please - if you prefer anywhere else. Forgive me, if I seem to take your good will for granted," she smiled a little, eyes showing some of their age and humor. "I'm not what wolves call... stand off-ish. I've had too many strangers turn into friends to stand on ceremony." |