table © Alaine
ooc: machine-gunning this thread c:
She kept approaching, but this time the much larger male stood his ground, sky-blue eyes watching her with the wary look of a child who know he is about to be punished for getting caught with one hand in the cookie jar. It was a rather gruesome appearance, spattered as he was with deer-blood, but the midnight lady didn't seem to mind. When she bowed, he stiffened at the unexpected movement, eyeing her nervously. She was very pretty, pretty enough to make him uncomfortable, but if there was one thing that Caillen had learned about pretty ladies it was that they were the most dangerous.
Her name sounded exotic. He tried to pronounce it in his head, but the slate hybrid's mental accent kept muffing it up. Sepirah. More so, her last name sounded familiar... Hadn't he met another Lykoi, not too long ago? Clover had been her name, and she'd been very sweet and kind to him. The memory of the female coyote brought the male a quick flush of courage. Maybe this Sepirah would be as kind as her kindred, no matter how eerily beautiful she appeared.
At the lady's suggestion, Caillen's sky-blue gaze traveled to the heavens above. Thunder rumbled warningly, and the youth's ears flattened meekly to his skull. He didn't mind storms, providing he could find a way out of their direct malice - Being big and bulky was not a good idea when lots of rain was about, especially with the luxuriously thick pelt he had. The boy had retained enough of his father's genes to have cold-resistant fur, but his collie mother's side (that which had given him such strange markings) meant that when wet, it became sodden and heavy.
Sky blue eyes returned to the Lykoi woman. He had a decision to make - To trust her, or not to trust her. Perhaps it was the boy's innate sense of goodness, that which made him fatally believe in the redeeming qualities of all individuals, that made him finally nod his head numbly in acceptance to her. It was a quality that had been starved, especially with recent betrayals, but old habits died hard. Besides, he was physically exhausted - Now that all his untamable fury had extinguished itself, all that remained was the weariness of his long limbs, and the weariness of his young spirit. He had to go home, but with this storm on the way, it would be stupid to continue traveling.
"Y-y-yes, please, ma'am." The accented baritone swell of his voice sounded quiet and submissive, as though the fear had leaked out of it and turned into a sort of resilience. His gaze turned back to the stag. In Optime form, he was by far larger than it - It was a relatively small species of deer, in any case. With a bit of a struggle, he managed to heft what was left of it up onto broad and muscular shoulders, before gesturing to the hide and the strips of meat he'd pulled off earlier. "If you wouldn't m-mind?" The exotic jackal-lady would be able to use the skin as a sack for the meat with little effort, if she chose. Other than that, he would allow himself to be led wherever she so desired.
Speak think walk
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