all my dreamers put your hands in the skin
07-20-2014, 11:37 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-20-2014, 05:33 PM by Ignazio-Drago.)
It was silent, save for his humming. His own murmured voice reached his ears, but Drago was content enough to be alone. He enjoyed his times alone, truthfully, though he loved company, as well. He was, after all, a social creature. He just disagreed strongly with the way packs worked. One or two wolves telling everyone what to do? No way! And all those tiers and having to 'work your up' - to prove your worth? Drago didn't need to prove himself to anybody, and nobody else should feel the need to, either. Attento, Drago. He warned himself in his head before voicing his thoughts aloud. You must also remember that everyone deserves the freedom to choose if that's the life they want to lead." His words echoed softly around him, becoming a mantra, digging itself into his brain. It was then he caught sight of movement, the light from outside showing him a silvery and orange pelt. The creature was quite small. She greeted him, her voice friendly. No malice seemed to be held. Not that Drago would have noticed malice. His dark lips were pulled into a happy, friendly grin, tail swishing to and fro. His golden hazel gaze held nothing but friendliness, love for the stranger - not romantic love, but a familial type of love. The same love he shared for everyone, whether they were strangers or enemies. "Hello to you, bella." His vocals held a distinct Italian accent. "I am called Ignazio Jeovanni, but my friends call me Drago." The male dipped his head. "Curiosity brings me here, volpina, and yourself?" Drago was amused at his own use of the Italian word 'volpina.' In this case, he used it to mean 'foxy' rather than 'fox' as a joke that only he would get. Act. "Speak. Italian." Think. |
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