starchild

What came out of the trees was a puppy. A puppy with white fur and pink eyes and oddly colored skin. Ganelon stared for a second, not sure how to handle this. Were its parents around? Would they try to take what he was eating? The white wolf sniffed the air carefully, didn't smell anything, dropped his head back down, and stared again.

The puppy sat down, stared at the ground, and offered him a compliment. He stared for another minute. Pretty?

Well, okay. The soldier suddenly cracked a twisty smile. It went away as soon as it came, but it was worth the quick show of emotion. He'd never been called pretty. He'd never been pretty, even before he took up fighting as a living. He just wasn't born with good looks. Just heavy shoulders and no personality to speak of.

He supposed he should respond to the girl. Talking wasn't his strong suit. Ganelon thought for a second and replied in a monotone voice, "You look..cold." That wasn't really the word he'd wanted. The burly wolf frowned at himself, gray eyes not really focused on the puppy. "Are you lost. Lost?" The language in this land relied so heavily on inflections. Ganelon had trouble with them.
Maybe the child would tell him if someone else was around. Ganelon would like to know that. This was the only thing to eat for miles, probably, and if a couple wolves presented themselves he'd probably have trouble defending it. This winter hadn't been easy, by himself. He was thinner than usual and he felt like his reactions were slower than they should be. Maybe he was getting too old.