Gilded Lion
12-08-2016, 10:26 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-08-2016, 10:28 AM by Arborick.)
Bring me that horizon. The Adravendi girl finally seemed to ease up as she reclined herself, even catching the oh so contagious yawn that had escaped him just moments prior. She than proceeded to claim she hadn’t known Odette, but like his, she had an expansive family with members both unknown and probably estranged. “Understandable. Mine is the exact same. Regardless she was lovely company and very kind. Same as you really.” He chimed handsomely, a bit of glee mixing in with the typically monotone chords he played. He felt the pace of his heart quicken a hair as she begun to elaborate about this new place, though an all to stoic facade would conceal any real excitement. She also mentioned that miss Adravendi made her feel quite old, which he could attest to, though it was habitual of him to address others so formally. Growing up under the diction of his grandmother, he recited formalities day in and day out, attending many council meetings where he and his brother received their fair share of brutalities when they did not address a lord or lady as such. Needless to say, his grandmother was a horrid bitch. And she hated them. Ruined there lives. Still, she burn of a single talon dragged sluggishly across his underside was a memory that had been burned into him, and thus these formalities came fluently, even years later. “Faite it is then, old habits die hard.” His heart still at haste was finally manifested; his chocolate eyes roused a bit wider, and the grin that seemed to phase out the second it would appear actually stuck around. He was relieved when she dismissed the possibility of the wolves devoutness, as that was something he didnt wish to be apart of again. It was about a year ago, maybe a bit longer when he found himself surrounded by pious imbeciles, ranting like a lunatic about there profound god and threatening those who didnt concur with the ideals of said god. “And you, Faite, where is your home? Do you belong to a pack?” As much as he was curious about her, he asked this for himself. It was much easier to assimilate within a pack when you already had a paw up. He had been pinned to the ground under some pissed off Alpha for entering the parkland premises too many times to count, and it made a worlds difference in the conversation to throw out a name that may spare him a full blown assault. He always took what was coming, and while he was never a pacifist he would often refuse to fight in those situations where an alpha couldn’t be reasoned with. What good was it really to try to fight an alpha you’re trying to join? If he had won, the pack would rally to the alphas side and it would be futile to convince them he wasn’t an enemy, and if he lost, his life was at stake. “They sound wonderful. As you may have surmised I am in search of a pack, one who’s values align with my own, somewhere to call home.” This came promptly after she sheepishly spoke of his scars. She was very sweet, her heart had a lot of good in it, he could tell. She claimed it was the personality that makes the wolf, and he agreed whole heartedly. Everyone gets scars, its just part of life, some are just more lucky than others in regards to placement. He gave a brief laugh in response, he would spare her the details unless she really wanted to know, some of the ugliest scars come from the simplest altercations. “Stories indeed." |
