11-17-2010, 08:17 PM
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Such things as carving served as distractions, focusing his mind and body on something that required his apt attention lest his ruin his work or further scar his body by accident. He heard the stranger approach, lifting his eyes only when the other wolf was within a few feet, finally speaking out, alerting Valentine of his presence and drawing his notice away from the flute toward himself. Crimson vision rose, meeting the green eyes of the younger wolf. “I am,” he admitted, agreeing, quite simply, with his statement. It was an apparent, obvious observation to any that had resided within this pack for any period of time. Valentine was yet the vagabond, slipping below the radar. “I’m Valentine,” he returned, name granted in return for the stranger’s—the stranger now known as Saul. |