03-01-2009, 11:39 AM
OOC: Cool, no worries =) *feels awkward even writing this, lol*
"Nowry Village, a pack that lives in wooden houses," he said in answer to her first question. That had been his first home, his birth pack. He had left it far behind, otherwise he might have thought twice before sharing his origins with her, as no wolf from that place would have any kind words to speak of him. As the black female continued to speak, Brennt learned that she was much like Fern in her love of talking and pleasantries. Fern often talked a great deal with Pallok or Hylfi, and was always very happy and chipper while doing so. This girl, Cwmfen was her name, seemed to be showing him favor, paying him attention that Fern never had. Her eyes were strange, maybe she couldn't see that he was ugly? Or that he was dumb? Maybe she couldn't see these things, or they didn't bother her.
"I'm Brennt," he said in return to her introduction. "I have no rank, I live alone. I don't know if I'm passing through or staying." His tone was flat and uninflected. She said she was the head warrior where she came from. A lead fighter? Could a girl be that? At her claim, he let his eyes roam over her, which they did gladly, her body exciting his slow but fervored mind, looking at the curves of her back and legs and belly, the way the blue streaks accentuated some of them, the way they highlighted her face. Part of his mind was considering her claim, and his furrowed brows seemed to agree with that part, simply trying to find where the power of a warrior lay within her thin frame. Another part, a baser and more driving part, was simply looking her over to look her over.
He was larger than her, could she beat him? He knew he was larger than Olric, but if someone talked the older alpha into confidence, he couldn't win against him. Maybe it was the same way here? Perhaps she just knew more than him, was smarter than him, so she would know what to do if she fought someone his size, maybe a trick that worked on all big wolves? Not that he had it in mind to fight her. Fern had tried to turn sex into a fight, and he hadn't enjoyed it, and ultimately had let her go without getting what he had wanted from her. His mother had taught him that the act between a man and a woman was something to be done gently and lovingly, so violence being involved in any way meant it was all wrong. He would never know that his mother had told him this primarily to save other women from any mistakes his hormones might drive him to, and possibly to make him approachable enough that someday, a girl who pitied him would have him. No, he would never know any of that, but in the meantime, it was a fine gift that Trilas, mother of Brennt, had given to females weaker than Cwmfen.
"Tell me how you fight...you are small and bad people are usually big. How does a littler person fight a bigger person?"He stepped toward her, head still cocked to a slight angle, dull eyes vaguely interested, as if the mind behind them was trying feverishly to break through the shackles of its slow-synapses and understand how she could be as she claimed. He was honestly curious as to the answer, but his mind was simultaneously being flooded with demands to mate with her. His first step forward was not aggressive, just slow, like he wanted a closer look. Currently, his eyes were focused on her claws, as if the secret might lay there. He was a little worried that if he made his interests obvious (presuming they weren't already...he wasn't a poor actor, but nor was he intellectual enough to make his act very complicated) she would shy away, attack or flee like Fern. He wanted her to know that even though he was big, he meant her no harm. The question, he hoped, would bring to mind the fact that she could fight big people, so she had nothing to fear from him, and that it was safe for him to love her and for her to love him. Hopefully, she would draw this conclusion by the time she finished answering, and then he would try to make his attraction known.
"Nowry Village, a pack that lives in wooden houses," he said in answer to her first question. That had been his first home, his birth pack. He had left it far behind, otherwise he might have thought twice before sharing his origins with her, as no wolf from that place would have any kind words to speak of him. As the black female continued to speak, Brennt learned that she was much like Fern in her love of talking and pleasantries. Fern often talked a great deal with Pallok or Hylfi, and was always very happy and chipper while doing so. This girl, Cwmfen was her name, seemed to be showing him favor, paying him attention that Fern never had. Her eyes were strange, maybe she couldn't see that he was ugly? Or that he was dumb? Maybe she couldn't see these things, or they didn't bother her.
"I'm Brennt," he said in return to her introduction. "I have no rank, I live alone. I don't know if I'm passing through or staying." His tone was flat and uninflected. She said she was the head warrior where she came from. A lead fighter? Could a girl be that? At her claim, he let his eyes roam over her, which they did gladly, her body exciting his slow but fervored mind, looking at the curves of her back and legs and belly, the way the blue streaks accentuated some of them, the way they highlighted her face. Part of his mind was considering her claim, and his furrowed brows seemed to agree with that part, simply trying to find where the power of a warrior lay within her thin frame. Another part, a baser and more driving part, was simply looking her over to look her over.
He was larger than her, could she beat him? He knew he was larger than Olric, but if someone talked the older alpha into confidence, he couldn't win against him. Maybe it was the same way here? Perhaps she just knew more than him, was smarter than him, so she would know what to do if she fought someone his size, maybe a trick that worked on all big wolves? Not that he had it in mind to fight her. Fern had tried to turn sex into a fight, and he hadn't enjoyed it, and ultimately had let her go without getting what he had wanted from her. His mother had taught him that the act between a man and a woman was something to be done gently and lovingly, so violence being involved in any way meant it was all wrong. He would never know that his mother had told him this primarily to save other women from any mistakes his hormones might drive him to, and possibly to make him approachable enough that someday, a girl who pitied him would have him. No, he would never know any of that, but in the meantime, it was a fine gift that Trilas, mother of Brennt, had given to females weaker than Cwmfen.
"Tell me how you fight...you are small and bad people are usually big. How does a littler person fight a bigger person?"He stepped toward her, head still cocked to a slight angle, dull eyes vaguely interested, as if the mind behind them was trying feverishly to break through the shackles of its slow-synapses and understand how she could be as she claimed. He was honestly curious as to the answer, but his mind was simultaneously being flooded with demands to mate with her. His first step forward was not aggressive, just slow, like he wanted a closer look. Currently, his eyes were focused on her claws, as if the secret might lay there. He was a little worried that if he made his interests obvious (presuming they weren't already...he wasn't a poor actor, but nor was he intellectual enough to make his act very complicated) she would shy away, attack or flee like Fern. He wanted her to know that even though he was big, he meant her no harm. The question, he hoped, would bring to mind the fact that she could fight big people, so she had nothing to fear from him, and that it was safe for him to love her and for her to love him. Hopefully, she would draw this conclusion by the time she finished answering, and then he would try to make his attraction known.