01-03-2010, 09:20 PM
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http://i950.photobucket.com/albums/ad34 ... s/truc.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; padding-top:187px; background-position:top center; background-color:#F8BB4D; text-align:justify; font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#AB360D; line-height:15px;padding-bottom:10px;">xD I can't remember who, but there was someone who's name I screwed up for MONTHS and nobody ever told me.
@&#&$"Hah! Who told you I wasn't?" he asked with a grin, the glint in his eye and the quick wag of his tail showing it was all in good humour. Although he could be somewhat temperamental and had a short fuse for bullshit, Anselm was reasonably patient with all of the clan-mates--the sane ones doubly so. The other's subtle dialect sent him back to years ago when he'd strode through vast stretches of open territory, and the packs were so few and far between that they scarcely minded visitors. They'd known little of war and conflict; they'd always seemed like tightly knit groups, too. It was a stark contrast from his experiences on the crowded mountains of Vermont or even here in Nova Scotia. He didn't know if Cassius was from the "country" (so to speak) or not, but he saw no point in asking.
@&#&$Instead, he listened with rapt attention as the other male went on to explain the "goggles." "Mechanic?" he queried, eyes lighting up. "My daughter was really into that stuff. She even got one of the old wheeled human machines to work," he added, a fair bit of pride in his voice. He'd never forget the day he'd saw the behemoth of a machine rolling towards him, with Maserati merrily honking the horn and flailing at him out the window. He almost wished he'd taken some time to learn from her, but the knowledge was so specialised and complex that he barely had time for it. He didn't find it boring, he just thought there were more pressing matters to address first. Still, it took all kinds, and he was pleased to hear they had one of such talents amongst their ranks.
@&#&$"But yeah, this place is a little nuts. It wasn't here a year ago; must be a new feature," he said with a soft snort, as he was not entirely sure if he liked it yet or not. The fog was disorienting; in some places it was thick enough to block out the sun. "There's even warm water bubbling up from underground," he added, "just over there." He turned as if to lead his new acquaintance over; maybe the other coyote would have something useful to say about it.
@&#&$"Well met, Cass," he said, enjoying the sound of the other man's moniker as it rolled off his tongue. "I'm Anselm; head scout. Also the resident 'botanist,' I reckon. In my spare time I dabble in carpentry and the investigation of weird fog," he concluded with a light laugh, even though the latter could have very well fallen within the scope of his assigned scouting duties. He wondered if they ought to put trail markers in here--something that they coyotes would understand so they wouldn't get lost in the swirling mist. Scent trails meant little if the water washed them away just as soon as they were laid down; they'd have to be creative. And obviously, they'd get bonus points if the marks were subtle or cryptic enough to confound invaders.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +507
@&#&$Instead, he listened with rapt attention as the other male went on to explain the "goggles." "Mechanic?" he queried, eyes lighting up. "My daughter was really into that stuff. She even got one of the old wheeled human machines to work," he added, a fair bit of pride in his voice. He'd never forget the day he'd saw the behemoth of a machine rolling towards him, with Maserati merrily honking the horn and flailing at him out the window. He almost wished he'd taken some time to learn from her, but the knowledge was so specialised and complex that he barely had time for it. He didn't find it boring, he just thought there were more pressing matters to address first. Still, it took all kinds, and he was pleased to hear they had one of such talents amongst their ranks.
@&#&$"But yeah, this place is a little nuts. It wasn't here a year ago; must be a new feature," he said with a soft snort, as he was not entirely sure if he liked it yet or not. The fog was disorienting; in some places it was thick enough to block out the sun. "There's even warm water bubbling up from underground," he added, "just over there." He turned as if to lead his new acquaintance over; maybe the other coyote would have something useful to say about it.
@&#&$"Well met, Cass," he said, enjoying the sound of the other man's moniker as it rolled off his tongue. "I'm Anselm; head scout. Also the resident 'botanist,' I reckon. In my spare time I dabble in carpentry and the investigation of weird fog," he concluded with a light laugh, even though the latter could have very well fallen within the scope of his assigned scouting duties. He wondered if they ought to put trail markers in here--something that they coyotes would understand so they wouldn't get lost in the swirling mist. Scent trails meant little if the water washed them away just as soon as they were laid down; they'd have to be creative. And obviously, they'd get bonus points if the marks were subtle or cryptic enough to confound invaders.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +507