To The Mountaintop
04-13-2017, 01:16 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-13-2017, 01:19 PM by Esmee.)
Esmee had been so caught up in her trek and flower picking that she did not realize how oblivious she had been. Her laser-like focus got her to the top of the cliff like she wanted, but she did not realize anyone else was around. At the time it was just Esmee, and only Esmee, doing her thing. But the sound of another voice got her attention very quickly, and made her realize otherwise. Traces of light skepticism marked the female’s features within seconds, and relaxing after the hike would have to be prolonged. When Wesson took a step towards her, Esmee strongly resisted the urge to take a step back simultaneously. That was a stupid move before, not paying attention all that time. Had it been another, more threatening wolf, she could have been in serious trouble. Esmee was confident in her own abilities for what they were worth, but she honestly was no fighter. She was very glad that no altercation had taken place up to that point, and hopefully it would not ever between them. The female made certain not to make that mistake again any time soon.
Instead of backing up though, Esmee made the conscious decision to step forward and rise to the occasion. There was only a small gap between them after that, perhaps a few inches. Although the brown male was nearly twice her size, Esmee was entirely undaunted. Size was no indication of past, present, or future performances. Size, like age, is only a number. It all depends on what one does with it when all is said and done. Esmee was curious as to what Wesson was about and what had brought him here. Maybe he was just as bored as she was or something like that, she did not know. There was only one surefire way to find out too; she had to ask him directly. Ask for amusement and ye shall receive it apparently.
“Were you following me? I did not see you standing there before now, and then you pop up like one of these tulips,” came Esmee’s initial response. Her head cocked to the side so she was peering at Wesson sideways a moment. The female’s rose gold eyes then attempted to meet the male’s aqua ones when she turned her head again. Those eyes. How could she have missed those eyes during this whole thing? They stood out from his brown fur plain as day. “Where are my manners? It appears they abandoned me for a moment there. Good evening to you as well, Darling,” Esmee said. There was a slight dip of her muzzle towards her male counterpart in greeting. Esmee’s tone matched Wesson’s, though obviously without the drawl and gruff nature to it. The she-wolf was taunting him in a low key way, testing to see what his reactions would be to her. She was unaware of his name, so she could only call him what he called her. That was only fair, right?
Instead of backing up though, Esmee made the conscious decision to step forward and rise to the occasion. There was only a small gap between them after that, perhaps a few inches. Although the brown male was nearly twice her size, Esmee was entirely undaunted. Size was no indication of past, present, or future performances. Size, like age, is only a number. It all depends on what one does with it when all is said and done. Esmee was curious as to what Wesson was about and what had brought him here. Maybe he was just as bored as she was or something like that, she did not know. There was only one surefire way to find out too; she had to ask him directly. Ask for amusement and ye shall receive it apparently.
“Were you following me? I did not see you standing there before now, and then you pop up like one of these tulips,” came Esmee’s initial response. Her head cocked to the side so she was peering at Wesson sideways a moment. The female’s rose gold eyes then attempted to meet the male’s aqua ones when she turned her head again. Those eyes. How could she have missed those eyes during this whole thing? They stood out from his brown fur plain as day. “Where are my manners? It appears they abandoned me for a moment there. Good evening to you as well, Darling,” Esmee said. There was a slight dip of her muzzle towards her male counterpart in greeting. Esmee’s tone matched Wesson’s, though obviously without the drawl and gruff nature to it. The she-wolf was taunting him in a low key way, testing to see what his reactions would be to her. She was unaware of his name, so she could only call him what he called her. That was only fair, right?