Word Count :: 700+ You always do this to my word count! hehehe
Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to demolish part of the building without asking first, but judging by the state of the weather beaten outer walls the Russian was sure no one would mind. Then again, maybe it was also bad form to make assumptions on behalf of her leaders. Still, it’s not like she was destroying anything useful, and she was only doing it to salvage the remaining material that wasn’t worthless yet in order to construct something of more value for the pack than this old building. The smell of mildew and moth balls and no lasting trace of any Luperci also helped seal her decision; no one needed this place.
Clunk, clunk… zzzzt! Zzzt! The sounds of construction – or in this case destruction – were plainly obvious once the clopping hooves died down as the King drew his mount to a stop. Though the sound was muffled by the decaying walls they still might have been detectable by the king even before the horse was still, but as invested in her work as she was, Liliya didn’t realize anyone was near. The zipping of the saw and the thunking of her hammer and the crackling of wood as she tore it from the ground covered all sounds. She labored on the floor, tearing up the boards in the center of the room. The building was raised from the ground by a couple feet, and since the world devours structures from the outside in the boards in the center of the floor were just about the only place that had survived weathering and decay. All in all it took quite a lot of convincing to loosen the old floor staples, yank the nails, and retrieve the lumber, but even as slow going as it was the task was proving fruitful thus far.
She paused for a moment in her labor and leaned back, sitting on her heels. Despite many holes in the plaster and wood walls it was sweltering in the room. The saw made a thunderous sound as she dropped it to the ground, then she untied her bandana and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. It was hard work to do alone but she still didn’t feel right using one of the communal slaves for help. Her gray eyes surveyed the pile of wood and usable nails and she sighed. It would be a lot to transport across Salsoa, especially alone, and once again she found herself wishing for a horse cart. Even an ox, or a stupid mule…
“Huh?” She muttered the unconscious syllable as a sound pricked her ears. Her head snapped up and spine straightened, but she’d been making no noise when the order came and there was no mistaking the call. The King. The Russian scrambled to her feet and almost flew through the doorway and out into the street. She jerked her gaze left… no… right? There he was. Taking a deep breath she moved toward him, trying not to appear clumsy and anxious by running but also being damn sure to make it known that she wasn’t taking her time.
She knew her alpha, of course, enough to recognize the man the moment she saw him, but she was more familiar with his scent than anything. Now she was able to get a good look at him, her gray eyes taking in the sight of his broad shoulders, lean musculature, and dark silken coat. It was nerve wracking enough meeting the man alone, why did he have to be so beautiful? She noticed she was audibly whimpering and cut the pathetic noise off that instant. How embarrassing. Then again, he was her alpha and at least he was the right wolf to make such a commotion over. His loveliness was a sight to behold, indeed, and it made her look down at the sawdust and muck from the day’s work that soiled her coat. With her bandana still in her hand her hair hung loose around her shoulder in half-combed tangles, and though her nose was blind to it by now she knew she probably smelled faintly of the mold that grew in the structure she’d been demolishing. What a sorry way to present yourself to your king.
“Good afternoon, Sir,” her Russian brogue was thick as nerves seized her. Having dropped her gaze when she drew near, she now spoke to her hands as they wrung the ruby bandana. She didn’t even know if he knew her name. “Is there somethingk I can do for you?”
Image courtesy of mnshots@Flickr; table by the Mentors!
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