-Guesses they're at the part of the Waste near the Dampwoods?- xX;
------The stench of a foreigner wafted over the breeze and invaded his nostrils, and he snorted softly as a suburbanite might at the smell of a freshly fertilised field in the country. He turned just in time to see a pitch black wolf approaching, who hastened to address him. Anselm always had a bit of an unrealistic (though not entirely unfounded) bitterness toward such situations (that is, anybody trying to talk to him). Regardless, he had enough sense to realise that others couldn't magically teleport themselves around Inferni's territory and he saw that the stranger was at least being respectful. Furthermore, he didn't seem intent on passing by the obvious boundary markings. Good.
------"Fifteen miles," he answered indifferently, although his crimson eyes remained focused on the other wolf. What are you going to do about it? he wondered to himself. It was a bit of a hike for one hoping to go through quickly. A golden ear flicked to the side--would he really have to trail this guy just to make sure that he did what he was supposed to? A first glance suggested that everything was hunky dory. Then again, there was some saying to the effect that those with a guilty conscious are paranoid--if he went around innocently asking for information, regarding boundaries appropriately, all with an ulterior motive... what meant that this guy wasn't doing the same thing?
| Messages In This Thread |