This world so cold
06-26-2013, 04:47 AM
Orica's eyes flew open in, well, not quite alarm but in surprise. The yearling looked like it could've taken flight. So shocked was the little pup, that she didn't even think to look behind her to see if something scary was there. None of her siblings would ever have done something like what this carmel-candy colored fae was doing. If Orica had come out and surprised them, if anything, they would've pounced her. Certainly they wouldn't have shied away. But then, the fact that there were lots of different types of wolves was still just barely illuding her little mind. Her six-month-old philosophy was that somewhere, somehow, just about all wolves were related (not a surprising thought given her family tree) and so she could treat every wolf as a friend. When the Ithy-something girl gave her name - Ithurial, Orica dipped her head as she'd been taught. "That's very pretty!" she squeaked. (She'd always loved her own name for how cute and pretty it was) But that squeak turned to a giggle as Ithurial moved forward and brushed her nose in Orica's pelt to get all the bits of twigs and berries out of her fur. "Thanks," she chuckled, not that she minded being covered in the stuff. She thought it smelled nice and spicy. "I'm alwready learning to be a healer," came a happy announcement. She straightened up in her pawprints and curled up her big husky's tail. "When I grow up I'ma going tah save wolves and fix 'em all up! What about you? What'll you be?" |
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