12-16-2009, 06:01 PM
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you write so fast! -states the obvious.-
#$%&*Unfamiliar with horses, Anselm supposed the galloping hooves belonged to some sort of monumental deer. The sound struck him as odd, indeed, though not immediately worthy of investigation. The hybrid was clearly well fed and not particularly hungry, and prey animals generally recognised when wolves were on the attack. The scent didn't exactly match up, but whatever it was, it still smelled like food to him. Only when it stopped abruptly did his brisk pace slow to a halt. A fleeting glance was subtly thrown over his shoulder, but what he saw caused him to follow through with a smooth about-face.
#$%&*Between the distance and the shadowy lighting, it looked as if the canine had been fused into the back of the ... mutant deer--a lupine centaur, perhaps, though such a thing made no sense. He'd been feeling somewhat adamant about continuing on to his destination uninterrupted, but this development was simply too bizarre to ignore. "Hey!" he barked, "Is that what happens when a wolf fucks a deer?" Though his booming tone was confident, there was enough quizzical humour laced in to make it obvious there was no insult or threat.
#$%&*The other man's scent registered him as one of their own and Anselm saw no harm in padding tentatively closer. Even still, his movements were cautious and slow--whatever that thing was, he supposed it could do far more damage than even a cornered buck if provoked. The animal was quite possibly one of the largest he'd ever seen. They were too far south to worry about caribou, moose, or elk, and the horse was bigger than a full-grown cougar. Still, the placement of its eyes on the sides of its head, the goat-like feet, etc. suggested that the beast was no hunter.
#$%&*His gaze remained fixated on the equine before finally raising to its rider as he approached. Since Alacrity's arrival, he had to admit he'd been slacking when it came to keeping up with the newer members--most left before they proved to be worth noticing anyway. Although he didn't recognise the face or name, however, he did know this man's scent to be one that frequented the borders: he was already fairly established within the clan. "The hell is that thing?" he wondered idly, before a too-short pause: "Can I touch it?" An unruly grin. He meant no harm, of course--he understood a "pet" when he saw one. He'd simply never seen food willing to get so close and personal with a canine while still... well, alive.
you write so fast! -states the obvious.-
#$%&*Unfamiliar with horses, Anselm supposed the galloping hooves belonged to some sort of monumental deer. The sound struck him as odd, indeed, though not immediately worthy of investigation. The hybrid was clearly well fed and not particularly hungry, and prey animals generally recognised when wolves were on the attack. The scent didn't exactly match up, but whatever it was, it still smelled like food to him. Only when it stopped abruptly did his brisk pace slow to a halt. A fleeting glance was subtly thrown over his shoulder, but what he saw caused him to follow through with a smooth about-face.
#$%&*Between the distance and the shadowy lighting, it looked as if the canine had been fused into the back of the ... mutant deer--a lupine centaur, perhaps, though such a thing made no sense. He'd been feeling somewhat adamant about continuing on to his destination uninterrupted, but this development was simply too bizarre to ignore. "Hey!" he barked, "Is that what happens when a wolf fucks a deer?" Though his booming tone was confident, there was enough quizzical humour laced in to make it obvious there was no insult or threat.
#$%&*The other man's scent registered him as one of their own and Anselm saw no harm in padding tentatively closer. Even still, his movements were cautious and slow--whatever that thing was, he supposed it could do far more damage than even a cornered buck if provoked. The animal was quite possibly one of the largest he'd ever seen. They were too far south to worry about caribou, moose, or elk, and the horse was bigger than a full-grown cougar. Still, the placement of its eyes on the sides of its head, the goat-like feet, etc. suggested that the beast was no hunter.
#$%&*His gaze remained fixated on the equine before finally raising to its rider as he approached. Since Alacrity's arrival, he had to admit he'd been slacking when it came to keeping up with the newer members--most left before they proved to be worth noticing anyway. Although he didn't recognise the face or name, however, he did know this man's scent to be one that frequented the borders: he was already fairly established within the clan. "The hell is that thing?" he wondered idly, before a too-short pause: "Can I touch it?" An unruly grin. He meant no harm, of course--he understood a "pet" when he saw one. He'd simply never seen food willing to get so close and personal with a canine while still... well, alive.