03-25-2009, 09:51 AM
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They were multiplying exponentially. Two birds became four, and four eventually became eight. Honoré watched the little creatures with great fascination, amazed with their sudden growth in numbers. The group grew even bigger as time passed, and it wasn’t until three of them flew toward something, or in this case, someone, that the Loas realized what was going on. Eyes of metallic bronze followed the wildfowl’s movements until they settled on another male; a rather grumpy-looking one at that. Before Honoré even had a chance to react, his feathered friends started pecking away at the silver-hued wolf.
The Québécois quirked a brow as he watched the scene unfold before him. His visitor was a rather gloomy man, or so he assumed. His eyes were the color of an overcast sky and it went hand in hand with his attitude, judging from what he could see. When the evil man threatened to turn the pretty chickadees into bird-pie (ew?), Honoré couldn’t help but release a snort to demonstrate his disapproval. “What? You a kitty or something, eh? I gonna have to call you a pussycat, maybe!" he exclaimed, hoping to dissuade his pack mate from having his feathered companions for breakfast.
He simply shook his head, wondering how long this battle between bird and canine would go on. “Stop trying to bite them and maybe they stop?” he suggested nonchalantly, not worried about the little fellows. They obviously had the upper hand.
They were multiplying exponentially. Two birds became four, and four eventually became eight. Honoré watched the little creatures with great fascination, amazed with their sudden growth in numbers. The group grew even bigger as time passed, and it wasn’t until three of them flew toward something, or in this case, someone, that the Loas realized what was going on. Eyes of metallic bronze followed the wildfowl’s movements until they settled on another male; a rather grumpy-looking one at that. Before Honoré even had a chance to react, his feathered friends started pecking away at the silver-hued wolf.
The Québécois quirked a brow as he watched the scene unfold before him. His visitor was a rather gloomy man, or so he assumed. His eyes were the color of an overcast sky and it went hand in hand with his attitude, judging from what he could see. When the evil man threatened to turn the pretty chickadees into bird-pie (ew?), Honoré couldn’t help but release a snort to demonstrate his disapproval. “What? You a kitty or something, eh? I gonna have to call you a pussycat, maybe!" he exclaimed, hoping to dissuade his pack mate from having his feathered companions for breakfast.
He simply shook his head, wondering how long this battle between bird and canine would go on. “Stop trying to bite them and maybe they stop?” he suggested nonchalantly, not worried about the little fellows. They obviously had the upper hand.