04-11-2010, 04:08 AM
word count: 303
Cerridwyn studied the pages intensely; surely if she looked at it long enough, the mysteries of the object would reveal itself to her. Her fawn-dappled eyebrows knitted in concentration, a studious frown laying gently upon her lips. She flipped the pages, allowing them to fall from top to bottom: nothing. She inhaled deeply and let the air out in a frustrated huff. Her concentration was so deep that she never heard the male enter; she had no idea he was present at all until he spoke. Already jumpy from being attacked by the puppet in the box, Cerridwyn let out a small squeal and dropped the book. It landed unceremoniously pages-down on the dusty floor, forgotten for the moment as her auburn eyes shot to the origination of the voice.
He was quite tall, and quite shaggy, and quite obviously a dog with no bit of wolf blood in him. Ashen fur fluffed in front of his dark eyes, and scraggled around his muzzle giving the appearance of a beard and mustache. He had a friendly, wizened face; the way his fur fell gave him an almost grandfatherly appearance to the collie-wolf, though from his voice she could tell he was no older than herself. His voice. Her eyes widened in realization as she replayed his words in her head. Words that sounded almost exactly like her own. Words spoken in such a way that she had not heard since she'd been ousted from her homeland. She opened her mouth and then closed it, opening again only to come out with: "Yer... yer nae frae Bhaile." It was nonsensical, probably, but it was all she could think; this dog spoke as she did but she'd never seen him before in her life. If he'd been in her tribe she'd have known him instantly.
Cerridwyn studied the pages intensely; surely if she looked at it long enough, the mysteries of the object would reveal itself to her. Her fawn-dappled eyebrows knitted in concentration, a studious frown laying gently upon her lips. She flipped the pages, allowing them to fall from top to bottom: nothing. She inhaled deeply and let the air out in a frustrated huff. Her concentration was so deep that she never heard the male enter; she had no idea he was present at all until he spoke. Already jumpy from being attacked by the puppet in the box, Cerridwyn let out a small squeal and dropped the book. It landed unceremoniously pages-down on the dusty floor, forgotten for the moment as her auburn eyes shot to the origination of the voice.
He was quite tall, and quite shaggy, and quite obviously a dog with no bit of wolf blood in him. Ashen fur fluffed in front of his dark eyes, and scraggled around his muzzle giving the appearance of a beard and mustache. He had a friendly, wizened face; the way his fur fell gave him an almost grandfatherly appearance to the collie-wolf, though from his voice she could tell he was no older than herself. His voice. Her eyes widened in realization as she replayed his words in her head. Words that sounded almost exactly like her own. Words spoken in such a way that she had not heard since she'd been ousted from her homeland. She opened her mouth and then closed it, opening again only to come out with: "Yer... yer nae frae Bhaile." It was nonsensical, probably, but it was all she could think; this dog spoke as she did but she'd never seen him before in her life. If he'd been in her tribe she'd have known him instantly.