09-06-2010, 02:57 PM
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Hi there, welcome!  Loving your table; so simple but pretty. And no worries about the length; gave me a challenge  He wasn't certain if it was the chill of autumn. It brushed up next to him as if flaunting in his face that soon, soon came winter. Soon, it would be a lot colder, and his puny pelt would not hold the cold out. Soon, the food would be scarcer and he would worry for everyone's safety, worry for the livestock and any puppies or Elders. Still, the Chief clung to the relative warmth of this season, trying as best he could to look at the present, while knowing all too well that if anyone in this tribe should look forward, it was himself. He, of all of them, should be prepared. If he wasn't, how could they be? And what would they do if crisis struck? And so, his nimble fingers were put to work as he feverishly avoided facing the reason behind his late activities, and how he would soon run out of cloth. He sometimes found salvageable cloth from ages long gone, but most of the time he had to produce the crude stuff himself. And it was no easy task, either. Luckily, his tutor had once taught him how to go about making simple bandage-cloth, and Dawali never forgot to send him a thankful thought as he enjoyed the heat of a crude carpet. They piled up around him now, in his hut. One for each of them; for winter. He put the cloth down and rose at her call (for it was evident from the sound of her that she was no male), not really wondering what she sought. So many had come to their borders lately, some of them weary and in bad health, some of them in need of a home, and some quite capable travelers whose ability to contribute Dawali did not doubt even for a second. He strode along familiar paths on two legs as he wondered which type she would be, feathers and beads in his mane making soft and sharp noises as they collided with each other in the air that brushed past his face. He kept his yellow gaze ahead, and spotted her with ease as he approached the borders, where the tree-line was broken and the field was under open sky. She brought a little horse, too; good. The more that were able with horses, the less Dawali might have to do. He greeted her with a lifted arm as he drew nearer, and spoke only once close enough to comfortably do so. "Greetings! You're looking at AniWaya, behind me here, and I'm the Chief—" he extended a hand; a gesture he had learned from the many newcomers that sought a place in their family. "—I go by Dawali." |