hopeless

*Diarmuid* · 11-15-2017, 04:40 PM

Diarmuid wasn't oblivious to her strange manner of following - every so often he glanced to the side to eye her inquisitively, though decided her antics were simply odd rather than worrisome. It was hard to discern whether she was trying to irritate him or amuse him, and he was decidedly neither, instead hanging somewhere between the two. Even when she nosed his flank, he hardly flinched; he was fairly certain now she wasn't going to try to attack him, and even if she decided to, she was much smaller and not much of a threat, in his mind.

Her comment made him snort softly. "Names are important. Even self-given ones," he answered simply. Even if she gave him a false name, or a nickname, it would tell him something about her - family names told even more, as did whether wolves chose to acknowledge them or not. Perhaps they didn't tell the whole store, but they were far from pointless in his mind - even if his scars, as she implied, told much more. "But my face tells a story in a language you don't speak, so at least my name will give you something you can understand," Diarmuid grumbled simply. No matter what she guessed, or what sort of brute she thought he was, he was fairly certain she would never be able to grasp the totality of it.

Would they meet again? He shrugged a bit absently at her question. "Maybe. Maybe not," came his simple response. "But at least if I decide you're worth remembering, the story will be easier if I know what to call you." Diarmuid let out another soft snort. "And my name's Diarmuid," he replied, putting her name - and face, though that was hard to forget - to memory.

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me