Smile and drop the cliché
#2
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OoC
Mind if this is set on the 19th?

IC

The black wolf tended to walk as if he had a purpose, even if he didn't. That day wasn't any exception, but exceptions were rare to come across. Bane was steady, in most respects, where it mattered to himself. Since his leg had healed, his focus had been primarily on exploration. When he wanted to move faster, he would switch to his half-shifted form and run. Winter had arrived, and the worst was yet to come. Any wolf would do well to know his surroundings.


His purposeful walk brought him to a place he had not yet visited. It was place like the Dampwoods, but thicker, with moisure heavier in the air; he breathed heavily as he moved through the crowded trees, eyes alert and mind focused. The cold was crisp and welcome in his lungs and on his feet. Nova Scotia wasn't much different from the place he had been last, and his arctic heritage made it easy to adjust.


A noise in the distance drew his attention and he walked towards it. Strangers were accomodating here. It was something that still made him wary, but he had a cat's curiosity and rarely resisted the call. Luck was always on his side. As he neared, he spotted a girl, kneeling on the ground with a hatchet, hacking away at a fallen log. Firewood, no doubt -- but a lady assigned to do such backbreaking work? A man like him, with his strong arms and broad shoulders, had been expected to do the hard work back home. And he had done it gladly. "Good morning, miss," he greeted her cordially. He kept a distance between them, partially to avoid seeming overbearing or threatening, and partially so he could see her clearly. Bane tended only to wear his glasses when necessary. "Would you like any help with that?"

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