I'm Yelling Timber (Euli)
07-28-2014, 09:28 PM
The russet pelted darling was wandering, as per usual. She wasn't sure if she wanted to seek out her father just yet, but sooner or later she would go see him. Later sounded nice, since getting a feel for the new lay of the land she'd grown to love seemed like a good plan before she met the great northern king. Tea cupped paws of deep rusty brown hues touched down upon the terra gently, heading in the general direction of the land locked vessel that seemed to be still sitting there on it's own. Auburn plume swept across her heels, and the porcelain masked lass felt a small rush of nostalgia at seeing the rusty, ice bound tanker. Even in her absence, some things had remained the same. Orchid toned optics scanned over the landscape, wondering if anyone lived here currently. There had been the old queen of Amenti here once, but it had been empty when she left, and she couldn't help but wonder if anyone else had seen the appeal in the warped wooden floorboards and taken claim of it. The air told her it was mostly empty, but a single scent stood out to her the most. The petite woman began striding towards the small form quietly feuding with the world around her. One brow would rise, quirking curiously at the odd sight. Surely this little one must be near her mother, or was she lost? She remembered a time lost in a blizzard, on her own in this very territory, where she had met a man she thought she loved. Oh the naivet?'s of youth, they had made her act so fast then. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man since. She would stop a fair distance from the little one, just in case parents came in to save the day. Not that there was anything to be saved from- the ivory masked femme wasn't a big wolfess. Though the twin slash marks down her left cheek might give her an intimidating air. Scars earned through evasion of a growing fight between she and her elder- and larger, sister. "Is something amiss, darling?" Her soft melodies would inquire, gentle and relaxed as she looked to the enraged youngster. Russet banner would twitch at her hocks, and the petite she wolf was quite curious to see what could have such a delicate looking child so upset. She would lower her tiara closer to the child's level, to seem a little less intimidating. However, she was nevertheless a stranger, and strangers could be frightening to children- scarred strangers a little more so. Speech, |
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