What Do We Do With A Drunken Sailor?
07-29-2019, 07:29 PM
Thoren once more grasped onto a really large fish, heavier than the last, he could barely hold it above water as he hurried it to the shore. Its feisty flails would cause him to drop it and panic. Jaws attempting to snap shut on it mid air while paws lifted him up off the ground before coming down hard on it as it flopped on the ground. Pinned, he would once more chomp its head to make the fish go still. Pleased with his so far success he would turn back to the water, intent on trying again as the other spoke, questioning his statement on living underground. He nodded slightly to the larger wolf. “In cave and tunnel systems…” His accent was a bit thicker on ‘systems’ it was not a word he normally used in the common tongue. While it may have seemed odd that he lived in them, it was odd to Thoren that these surface dwellers lived most of their lives in the sun without being in pain. Dutch had adjusted much better than he had- but she’d always been interested in going out on the surface…he on the other hand was more intrigued with exploring the tunnels and learning. The other would introduce himself and Thoren once again bobbed his head, brow furrowing slightly. “Abaven?” he asked, confused. Was that one of those odd groups- a pack…He’d learned enough to know that ‘packs’ were not just familial, but were made of non family members as well. An odd custom, but not everyone bred to the extent that dwarves did he guessed. There was little room for ‘outsiders’ or strangers in his community. “Thoren…of…nowhere…” With that, he would pause his speech and dive once more as a flash of silver went across his path. Thoren is fishing, copying Brandr. |