from the mind of a stoner
08-21-2014, 01:33 PM
In the back of his mind, he heard the light clicking of nails, but it had sounded far away, to him, at least. His eyes had closed, the wind sending goosebumps all along his skin with a cold bite - though the head of summer, reaching even the north, thankfully prevented his veins from freezing over. It wasn't until he'd heard the closest pawstep that Drago opened his golden-hued gaze. He found himself staring into bright red depths, the blackness around the red pits making his vision seem a little tunneled. Drago blinked before breaking out into a wide grin when his mind finally caught up with the situation. "Ciao! I apologize, I must have dozed off." He chuckled, amused at himself, and stood so that he could take a step back, to give the fiery wolf a bit more space. Always the one for conversation, Drago nodded his head at the she-wolf. "My name is Ignazio Jeovanni, but my friends call me Drago." Act. "Speak. Italian." Think. |
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