table © Alaine
ooc: derp, quick reply <3
It seemed that he stood still for an eternity, till he saw her. At first, she was nothing more than a shadow, melting away between the dark silhouettes of gnarled tower-trunks. Then, she became a figure, materializing from the gloom initially as two glinting gold and yellow eyes. And finally she became a figure, unmistakably feminine, shadows still clinging to her inky fur as though reluctant to untangle their tentative fingers from the lady's midnight pelt. She truly appeared, in that moment, to be a princess of darkness.
Caillen's stomach flipped anxiously, his wide blue eyes growing more-so as blood-greased fingers scrambled in the leaf-litter for his dropped dagger. The blade was crude and dull, and it felt useless in his large clawed palm, but he held it forward in warning anyway. His other hand clutched at the ruby-spattered antlers of the stag, still ribboned with strips of it's fur. One lip lifted in a snarl, but his blue eyes were afraid, not bold or aggressive as he wished them to appear. Perhaps the woman could tell that, because she didn't seem afraid of him, merely curious and slightly wary.
Her voice, soft and lustrous, made his one floppy and one erect ear flip forward. The snarl on his maw faltered, but still the manchild held his warning stance, mirroring her forward steps with backward ones of his own. It appeared foolish - His bulk was much more than her own. In fact, she was as nothing he had seen before (for the slate wolfdog had never known a jackal), with elegantly long ears but a taller, leaner frame than those of the wraith-like coyote. Caillen himself was a strange mixture of collie-cat and wolf; He must have looked very alien to one who had never before seen a domestic cat.
Dark clouds broiled overhead, the beginnings of a frothy storm-cauldron bruising the sky. It was almost as if the weather was responding to his emotional turmoil.
At her question, the manchild faced a peculiar indecision. Even in this moment of stress, Caillen's manner surged to the fore. He had always been taught the value of politeness, and to leave her inquiry unanswered would be uncharacteristically rude. Besides, the youth argued with himself, she doesn't look threatening. See how her tail is lowered? See how her body is casual, unconcerned? The hand holding the dagger in her direction lowered to his side, and the gentle giant straightened from his aggressive stance.
"I am... I am Caillen Winters, m-miss." Sky-blue eyes, deep pools of hurt and confusion and fear, gazed naively across at her. He wondered whether she would show him kindness, of whether she would punish him for hunting in this place. He had thought it to be unclaimed, but had not really checked for markings or borders. Perhaps she lived here. The thought made his nerves quail, and his thick plumed tail hung low in weary submission. If she wanted his kill, he would not defend it. His legs were longer than hers - If she made to attack, he would probably be able to outrun her.
Speak think walk
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