That old book smell

Emile · Updated 04/30/23:

Emile wasn't an easily startled wolf, at least he certainly didn't think he was, but the boy practically jumped out of his skin when the voice sounded behind him, a stammered apology starting to rise from his lips but Gwyn slipped past him, confirming she could in fact use his help so the boy's jaw snapped shut with an audible sound, any further excuse not to have to speak more would be gladly taken.

White dusted paws would follow her into the library, green gaze roving curiously over the room, though his attention would snap back to the task at hand as the young woman stopped, and indicated the jars and pots, watching as she went to fetch a few large swathes of fabric. He nodded as she indicated the plan. Emile moved with a sort of quiet gentleness, reaching for a jar and cradling it carefully against his chest, pressing it to his body with a forepaw as he slowly lowered it onto an open piece of fabric, gently positioning it. He would move like that for a bit, carefully picking and choosing jars and pots so they'd lay nicely next to each other and arranging them so they wouldn't bump against each other too bad when he eventually tied up his little bindle like package without being too heavy. Each movement was deliberate, unspeaking but his process clearly informed and thought out.

"Speech"

Art by EffraSorbus

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