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My gift is my song
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I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! NOOO, I will make it!
Ascher ran. He ran and panted. He also tripped, but that part he would not let anyone know, if he could help it. Waking up just a little later than he had expected today should not have made a big difference in his preparations for the Hibernal celebration, but it somehow had. The male clutched various sprigs of herbs and plants and - sadly - a few simple twigs in his hands as his feet ran towards the town center. He had not forgotten about anything - but hunting for something to bring to the celebration had ended in nothing but disaster for Ascher. He was not Gideon, who seemed to pull food from mid-air and right off the top of the water. But something that Ascher was developing a great nose for was herbs that did not taste like leaves or bitter medicine when you ate them. Nor were they poisonous. A couple close calls while spending a few afternoons by himself and ingesting some stomach-upsetting foilage, but nothing drastic.
Which brought Ascher up to speed with himself. But not his legs. As he re-entered the outskirts of Wolfville, his legs decided to remind him just how hard the stone ground could be on his face. Those legs kindly stepped out of the way whilst allowing the young Stormbringer's muzzle to get acquainted with the weathered stone of the town. Once pleasantries had been exchanged and Ascher had excused himself, he remembered that he needed to shift himself down to a normal wolf again before he could take part in the ceremony tonight. The scattered herbs in front of the standing wolf still needed to make it to the meats that were going to be near that fire. They would be tasting so good with... whatever Ascher had found... Ears perked up on the distraught wolf's head as he spied a scrap of thin cloth that had blown in near him. Had Ascher been able to study the town's previous occupants, he would have known canvas bag material if he saw it, but alas he did not. It was clean enough to hold all of his items, though, so after a few minutes of concentration to return to his natural form, Ascher gathered all of his greenery into the bag and held the awkward bundle in his teeth as he trotted the last distance towards the meeting spot. It was not hard to find.
Coming in on the opposite side of all the food, Ascher was going to have to pass by everyone that had assembled while saying ”Herro” because his mouth was full of bag. Oh well. ”Herro Conorr, herro Sarl, Griddie, Shi; herro Nayroo, Meewee...” Ascher stopped upon seeing someone he did not immediately recognize. Granted, he did not socialize much, despite resolving to do so more often, so this wolf could possibly have been around longer than him and Ascher would just have never seen her because he was a stick in the mud like that. ”Herro, my narme is Aschher Schtormbriingrr,” making polite conversation was always difficult when one could not enunciate words to save one's life.
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~ Table by James ~
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