Lips Of An Angel
07-16-2013, 06:41 PM
Orica felt the male beginning to stir, but it seemed like he wasn't in any hurry to wake up either. It was kind of fun, this; she'd never spent a night away from her pack. Back in Snowfalls she'd slept in a big giant cave with her siblings and parents within pawing distance. Each morning when she awoke she was expected to get up right away and start the day - but quietly so she didn't wake old Crusade. Waking up out here was adventurous but she wouldn't want to do it every morning. Absently she wondered what it was like for the male knowing that no one out there really cared when he went to bed or when he got up from it, or if he ever rose at all. Course, if he'd spent his life pushing wolves away, maybe he thought he preferred it on his own. Orica's heavy thoughts were disrupted by a yawn that betrayed her consciousness. Her jaws opened up and rows of sharp little pearls gleamed like the dewdrops. Oh well, she had to greet the day at some point. "Morning," she offered with a soft smack of her jowls. Her paws were still folded and her tail still curled but she raised her head, showing the ivory stripe that led from her muzzle through her throat and down her little chest. Her oversized ears perked forward as she searches the male's form for any sign of stiffness or pain. There was bound to be some, but hopefully not too much. However bad the wound was, however long it would take to scar, the worst was over. He'd made it through the first day and night - however much trouble the girl might get in for being away, she was glad she'd stayed to make sure of this. Besides, after the ordeal Orica had come through, the thought of a stern, concerned little lecture from her father didn't give her chills. But still the thought of her dear mother worrying over her made her heart sore. "Demyan," said the girl with some reluctance, "I should go home soon..." Yet despite her words she didn't so much as lift a paw. Something told her that when she left... she and the male would not be seeing each other again, at least not for a long time. She pack was the sort that would kill him if they knew what he was, and besides that they were all to turn nomads soon and Orica would be headed north. They might not come back this way till winter. She was loathe to leave him, for fear that he would soon enough slip out if this rare show if honor and return to what it was he enjoyed doing. Hmm. Thinking of it like that - it made her sound quite important. How silly. |