03-21-2010, 02:51 AM
Delwyn listened intently to the words that were passed between Pontiac and Domonick. He was young and naive, but the pup was also very bright: in short order he infered that Domonick was a stranger to the Valley. An instictive nervousness about a wolf from outside of the pack began to creep down his spine. It was only made worse when he heard the tale of murderous accusations and betrayal. Suddenly the woods felt a lot colder.
And then Jefferson arrived.
The pup was practically starstruck. Jefferson was the only wolf in the pack that Delwyn knew by reputation alone; after all, Jefferson was Patriarch. He hadn't, however, been prepared for how intimidating Jefferson would be. His body covered with scars and his gruff tone made his appearance from the scrub all the more startling. Between it all, the pup found himself overwhelmed, and his tail quickly tucked itself between his legs. When Jefferson complimented Delwyn's behavior in greeting Domonick, the pup's spirits returned, if only partially.
Still, Delwyn reasoned, if he was going to be a hero some day, he would have to show more courage than this. So he carefully took a couple of steps towards Jefferson, made the best eye-contact that he could, and in a voice that was much more reserved than it had been towards the others he began to speak: "Hello Jefferson, sir. You didn't miss very much. The pup paused for a moment, as he collected his racing thoughts, "I was playing over there," he said, pointing towards a nearby clearing, "and I heard some people talking. This wolf is named Domonick and he smells funny. I think he's tired, or maybe his paw hurts." This was the limit of how much the pup could bring himself to talk to the one-eyed, scarred Luperci; Delwyn's eyes shot to the ground and his voice trailed off.
And then Jefferson arrived.
The pup was practically starstruck. Jefferson was the only wolf in the pack that Delwyn knew by reputation alone; after all, Jefferson was Patriarch. He hadn't, however, been prepared for how intimidating Jefferson would be. His body covered with scars and his gruff tone made his appearance from the scrub all the more startling. Between it all, the pup found himself overwhelmed, and his tail quickly tucked itself between his legs. When Jefferson complimented Delwyn's behavior in greeting Domonick, the pup's spirits returned, if only partially.
Still, Delwyn reasoned, if he was going to be a hero some day, he would have to show more courage than this. So he carefully took a couple of steps towards Jefferson, made the best eye-contact that he could, and in a voice that was much more reserved than it had been towards the others he began to speak: "Hello Jefferson, sir. You didn't miss very much. The pup paused for a moment, as he collected his racing thoughts, "I was playing over there," he said, pointing towards a nearby clearing, "and I heard some people talking. This wolf is named Domonick and he smells funny. I think he's tired, or maybe his paw hurts." This was the limit of how much the pup could bring himself to talk to the one-eyed, scarred Luperci; Delwyn's eyes shot to the ground and his voice trailed off.