Golden Hour
04-14-2014, 07:32 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-14-2014, 07:52 PM by Sucre I.)
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Fell from a cliff, never broke a bone The pile of "medicinals" was now a small mountain at his side. If he didn't stop picking it there wouldn't be any left for the next time he needed to get away. It was difficult, but Sucre resisted the urge to pluck more. He was well aware that what he had was sufficient for his needs, but his nerves demanded that he take more. He wanted to be completely numb, but picking the whole patch would be overkill. Pun intended. She stuttered out a reply and Sucre looked up at her again. His expression said it all: he was unconvinced. The brute started fiddling with herbs, gently pushing them into a neater, tighter pile. "I'm sure you have." As it was intended to be, his lie was equally unconvincing. His eyes had been drawn to the pile but at her next question the brute's gaze flicked to Hani's. No, he didn't think she was a yearling, he knew she was one. Not that there was anything wrong with being so young; in this wolf it was just particularly obvious. Rejecting her roundabout 'not a yearling' assertion flatly, the brute replied, "Of course not." Separating off a portion of his medicinal mountain, the brute shoved a small hill towards the fae. "Here. It's only fair since you were here first." Eyes on her, the brute placed a stem between his paws and started eating the leaves from it. |