I thought you were dead...
05-26-2013, 07:38 AM
The brute nodded in Sperare's direction, and took his leave. His ear flicked in recognition of the Beta's words. Time to go; the wolf hitched up his legs into a lope and went tearing off into the trees. He wasn't allowed much leg room though, before Oxia, coming up alongside was talking and slowing to a walk. The male's words succeeded in wringing the most emotional display that Gargoyle had had in hours: a raise of his right brow. The weird thing was, he was stoic by nature, not exactly by choice. He didn't hide his emoitons behind a mask or facade, he just naturally didn't show them most of the time. Normally this was a plus, most of the time there was simply nothing to read. But every wolf had his tell, and apparently Gargoyle did too. He glanced his Beta over. He'd chosen him for the post thanks to his uncanny ability to keep pace, apparently he was also keen at analyzing face. Maybe Frisk was right. Maybe he was some sort of mushroom spirit. After his cursory glance Gargoyle looked away and towards the trees. "Who isn't hiding something?" the brute rumbled. To give too much of answer was to dig up past that would be painful to all three of them - and that was putting it lightly. But to give not enough would only frustrate the wolf who he was supposed to be able to depend on. "Just thinking that's all. Miss Sperare reminds me of someone that I used to know - someone I really don't like. But it doesn't matter anymore; My ghosts stay in the ground." There wouldn't be a poker player alive who could catch a tell in the wolf's face now - mainly because he didn't need one. He was telling the truth, every word of it. It was just a bit cryptic, that's all. The last sentence, however, was more than a statement, it was a request for the matter to be left alone. Besides, now wasn't a time for Oxia to be worrying over Gargoyle, it was a time for him to rejoicing over his sister. A swirl of wind came down from on high. Goat. Clear as day. Gargoyle's shoulders churned into a prowl, watching his step. Even from hundreds of yards away, those crafty devil-hoofed things could sense predators. |