12-22-2009, 01:45 PM
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The thundering of an approaching stranger drew the burly wolf’s attention. Larkspur lifted his head, but his body failed to move into motion. It no longer feared pain; obvious by the sacred words carved into his arms, more so by the taunt and well-worked muscles hidden under thick fur. Like the stranger before him, Larkspur believed he was invincible. He had one thing on his side that the other man did not—the power of the can tah—but even so, he could read those baby-blue eyes clearly.
Without moving, or giving hint he intended to, the D’Angelo’s fire-fed eyes focused on the stranger and attempted to swallow him whole. Larkspur could sense the darkness radiating from the man as clearly as he could sense the power rippling through the stone eagle around his neck. He did not fear it, but he recognized it. Keeping his stance neutral, but refusing to break his gaze, the large wolf spoke. “No,” he answered simply. “I ain’t lookin’ for trouble.” He knew they were there by now, of course. Everything Misery had taught him had sunk in, and turned him deceptive. This was how to survive. “You mus’be the Dinh here.” His thick accent, a drawn-out speech that held the mountain-twang of long-dead moonshiners, fell in step with the peculiar language.
The thundering of an approaching stranger drew the burly wolf’s attention. Larkspur lifted his head, but his body failed to move into motion. It no longer feared pain; obvious by the sacred words carved into his arms, more so by the taunt and well-worked muscles hidden under thick fur. Like the stranger before him, Larkspur believed he was invincible. He had one thing on his side that the other man did not—the power of the can tah—but even so, he could read those baby-blue eyes clearly.
Without moving, or giving hint he intended to, the D’Angelo’s fire-fed eyes focused on the stranger and attempted to swallow him whole. Larkspur could sense the darkness radiating from the man as clearly as he could sense the power rippling through the stone eagle around his neck. He did not fear it, but he recognized it. Keeping his stance neutral, but refusing to break his gaze, the large wolf spoke. “No,” he answered simply. “I ain’t lookin’ for trouble.” He knew they were there by now, of course. Everything Misery had taught him had sunk in, and turned him deceptive. This was how to survive. “You mus’be the Dinh here.” His thick accent, a drawn-out speech that held the mountain-twang of long-dead moonshiners, fell in step with the peculiar language.
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