to know so little, to feel so much
02-26-2014, 03:26 PM
Uphill struggle, blood sweat and tears
Away went the old white wolf's stern posture, but Tyr didn't move from his submissive, cringing position. He'd made the mistake of letting down his guard too many times before. She smiled at him, just slightly, as she cocked her head to look at him, then bid him to rise. Tyr obeyed with alacrity despite his misgivings. Better, he'd learned, to be trapped into punishment by doing as he was told than to be punished for hesitating in carrying out a direct order. When you got pride involved, things got much nastier.
His brow furrowed at her words, though, catching one in particular. "Valhalla?" he blurted out before he could restrain the word, then cringing for speaking out of turn. Her voice was strangely soothing, warm like the summer sun after a cold night - but Tyr, who had never known a mother's kind voice, did not associate it with that. Anglea had never spoken to any of her own children in such a way, let alone the crippled interloper she had been forced to foster with her own litter. Loki had used a similar tone when he would shower Tyr with false kindness, all for the sake of inducing a punishment for the younger boy, but there was always a quietly sly note to it, a note that was conspicuously absent from this Erani's voice.
The wolf would speak again, asking when the last time he'd eaten was. Wide-eyed with surprise and suspicion, Tyr's gaze flew to hers searchingly before he dropped it back to the ground at their feet. His brow furrowed in confusion - what possible reason could she have to want to know? To know exactly how weak he was likely to be? To know if he'd been hunting on her territory?
"I don't remember," he admitted in a whisper. "A couple days? Maybe?" Wolves were capable of going quite some time, weeks even, without eating, assuming they were able to gorge themselves on a big kill to make up the lack, but Tyr had never had that privilege even when he was getting regular meals, and the fact that he couldn't quite remember how long it had been concerned him. But once he got back to the willows, he'd be able to fish there, and all would be well. Though if this alpha took exception to something he said, he might not live long enough to worry about where his next meal was coming from.
"Speech"
His brow furrowed at her words, though, catching one in particular. "Valhalla?" he blurted out before he could restrain the word, then cringing for speaking out of turn. Her voice was strangely soothing, warm like the summer sun after a cold night - but Tyr, who had never known a mother's kind voice, did not associate it with that. Anglea had never spoken to any of her own children in such a way, let alone the crippled interloper she had been forced to foster with her own litter. Loki had used a similar tone when he would shower Tyr with false kindness, all for the sake of inducing a punishment for the younger boy, but there was always a quietly sly note to it, a note that was conspicuously absent from this Erani's voice.
The wolf would speak again, asking when the last time he'd eaten was. Wide-eyed with surprise and suspicion, Tyr's gaze flew to hers searchingly before he dropped it back to the ground at their feet. His brow furrowed in confusion - what possible reason could she have to want to know? To know exactly how weak he was likely to be? To know if he'd been hunting on her territory?
"I don't remember," he admitted in a whisper. "A couple days? Maybe?" Wolves were capable of going quite some time, weeks even, without eating, assuming they were able to gorge themselves on a big kill to make up the lack, but Tyr had never had that privilege even when he was getting regular meals, and the fact that he couldn't quite remember how long it had been concerned him. But once he got back to the willows, he'd be able to fish there, and all would be well. Though if this alpha took exception to something he said, he might not live long enough to worry about where his next meal was coming from.
"Speech"
Nothing to gain, everything to fear