Tell Me The Stories Of Your People

The veteran waited only a short while before a feminine form drew into sight around the mangrove trees. She was white, with bright sapphire eyes, and warm ruddy brown encompassing the whole of her right ear and embracing her right forepaw to the wrist. She was markedly shorter than he, had the build of a fighter, and her left ear was half gone in a ragged edge. Every detail was taken in by the molten dual colored gaze of the monochrome male with the appreciative, yet respectful interest. She stopped at a safe distance and hailed him. So the pack was named Fiori, was it? She introduced herself, and he filed away her name in the back of his mind.

He sat a bit straighter, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder from the bruises. ”Greetings, Epiphron Adravendi. I am Eridanus Sterling.” He introduced himself, low, soft toned voice calm and respectful as he looked her over. His accent was that of a Cherokee native, with soft inflections of Greek, giving his tones an almost exotic flavor. ”I am a warrior seeking a pack in which my strength and services will be appreciated and duly rewarded. I seek a pack that is lively. I am a fair fighter, and I am a good hunter. These services I can give. What can you and your pack give in return? Will you tell me, please, a bit about your pack?” His head cocked as he asked the last question, molten eyes roving over her face as he waited to hear what she might say.