Loose Leaf
08-02-2013, 11:56 PM
Walk | "Talk" | Think He was practically sure the younger pup had been overcome with a sudden nervousness that prevented her from answering his rather simple question. Being a practical sort, he saw very little point in frivolities and silliness, or whatever it was that some wolves deemed acceptable about avoiding answers and being overall pests. A yes or no was all he wanted; nothing more and definitely nothing less. Was it too much to ask? He had only time enough to let his patience momentarily slip away as a heavy sigh sneaked its way out of his dark nose with an indiscernible roll of his eyes before his attention was drawn to the ledge again, the girl informing him she would come down. Oh. Well. That was good. The irritation ebbed away with a blink, the expression about his face falling blank with a little bit of pleasant surprise, and watching her dark, scarred face disappear from view, his ears perked above his head in anticipation of hearing any of her decent that he could over the noise of the falls. Seconds ticked by, verging on a minute, and without a word the wolf turned himself from the pool he had been facing to stare at the section of rocks he anticipated her to come down from, the path that he knew to lead where he had been standing. It was a short wait in retrospect, but patience already beginning to wear it felt a slight bit longer. Eventually she did join him down upon solid ground, her daintier black paws carrying her with what appeared to be a lingering sense of hesitancy in his direction before veering off toward the water's edge. He observed her during this time, noting immediately that the spots of color upon her face that he had noticed were not merely patches of a paler shade of fur but, indeed, scars. Two more sat upon her shoulder, devoid of the dark fur that covered her body and such a pink tint to the skin that he wondered if it hurt to touch it. Never before had he seen scars in this manner, only the straight-edged, slim ones created in fights. This was something else entirely, and, he supposed, a subject of insecurity if this little female held any sense of vanity at all. Naturally he kept his mouth shut about it, reminded of the times his brother would say something out of turn and his mother would silence him for it. Thinking before speaking came secondhand to Rune, and so he easily avoided the blunder by touching on a subject better left undisturbed to instead listen as she finished with her drink and voiced a little recognition regarding his scent. His initial reaction was merely to shrug, no real worded answer coming to mind. It was not because he didn't want the company - friends were more than welcome - but he was simply not comfortable in social situations. Even this was a bit of a stretch, and he thought he was doing marvelous so far. Admitting that he knew of his shortcomings as a conversationalist was out of the question and so silence seemed best. It was only at the mention of Luce that his ears perked up with more attention, a sudden spark of recognition igniting somewhere within his pale blue eyes. "Luce," Rune echoed, feeling a sense of familiarity to the name even as it rolled off of his lips. She had to have been another member of Tortuga, he supposed, but more, somehow striking a chord within his memory. Pale eyes shot upward, past the ledge that the blue and gold eyed pup had been, up toward where he presumed the cave to still be. He had found his father there once, along with a lovely white female, her leg scarred and open and bleeding. So much blood. But that was a small detail in this moment. Setting his gaze back upon the younger she-wolf, he asked, voice curious but rather cautiously so, "Did she live up there, by the top of this ridge?" |
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