White Wings
05-16-2022, 01:08 PM
Pleione could feel eyes on her, but she assumed them to be the birds. The sound of them had become overwhelming, a screaming cacophony to her overstimulated mind. Ears ringing, head throbbing, she almost didn’t recognize the sound of a voice. She froze, hair rising on the back of her neck, lips parted to pull in extra scent. Mistakes like this cost wolves their lives. Embarrassment flashed through her, and then shame at her weakness, before she steeled herself, tongue lapping over her lips just once more before she raised her head and turned to face the towering shadow of a beast. Pleione had never considered herself small, but it appeared wolves were built differently around these parts. Salmon-toned eyes flicked over her slender form just once before politely averting, showing all the respect she could muster. Half drowned and more than half starved, nonetheless she was supposed to be better than this. She had been raised better than this. Pleione corrected her posture, steadying her shaking legs, tail held respectfully low without cowering, her body language carefully loose and passive. She was a trespasser here and she knew it. This large, intimidating woman had every right to throw her right back into the sea. Pleione swallowed heavily before speaking, throat still ragged from choking on sea water. She spoke slowly, carefully, articulating her syllables to sound elegant despite it all, even as she panted for breath between words. “You have a lovely home. Forgive me for drowning on its shores,” she said, and then had to stop for air. Some combination of the salt water in her stomach and drinking from the driver too quickly had her insides churning, and it was a struggle not to heave. “My only business is making it to tomorrow. I’ve traveled very far.” It was as much of an explanation as she could give at the moment. |