11-22-2007, 10:44 PM
When the boy leaned forward, Samson let his eyelids drop, summoning all his power to concentrate on the others voice. M Jasper.. tis place s clou..ed tears.' The were's eyes opened, nodding in comprehension. 'Nice to meet you, Jasper.' He bit his lip, trying to pierce together the last bit of information. The name of the pack, he interpreted it as, was Clou-ed Tears? No, no, Cloued wasn't a word. the Pack of White Supremacy was what he had meant.
Slowly the muscles in his shoulders relaxed, ears tilted forward yet again when the male began to speak, clarifying what he had asked earlier. Skills? Different from hunting, or ordinary things, he supposed. 'Erm,' the hybrid started, scratching his head. 'I can read an' write.' There had to be more. Samson racked his mind. 'I suppose m'a bit of an artist, too.' If artistry was simple sketches against recycled bits of scratch paper. Although the male would have no knowledge of such things, joining a pack was a bit like applying for a job. Your resume was what you could do for the pack, what experiences you've had. And if you sold yourself short... well, you'd be looking for a different pack.
Now his question was: would the Pack of White Supremacy take a deaf dog?
Slowly the muscles in his shoulders relaxed, ears tilted forward yet again when the male began to speak, clarifying what he had asked earlier. Skills? Different from hunting, or ordinary things, he supposed. 'Erm,' the hybrid started, scratching his head. 'I can read an' write.' There had to be more. Samson racked his mind. 'I suppose m'a bit of an artist, too.' If artistry was simple sketches against recycled bits of scratch paper. Although the male would have no knowledge of such things, joining a pack was a bit like applying for a job. Your resume was what you could do for the pack, what experiences you've had. And if you sold yourself short... well, you'd be looking for a different pack.
Now his question was: would the Pack of White Supremacy take a deaf dog?