Fabric of the past

Bindu Epals · 03-02-2011, 10:58 PM

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The hybrid's dark red eyes took a lazy glance towards the rotting shack as Axelle spoke, contemplating the suggestion. Everything about her situation -the abrupt takeoff, the wandering- it was all last minute. But she understood what the white-and-sable pelted female meant. The shack had four walls and looked big enough; more than any tree could do, anyway. Bindu nodded thoughtfully. Maybe she would stay here for the night, although something about the place made her petite backbone tingle.

The teen wasn't surprised by Axelle's casual confession; she didn't look like the type to linger for long in any given place. A thought passed briefly through the young wolfdog's head. Did she herself look like a wanderer? Or was there something about her -maybe the sickly thinness, or the ragged pelt- that represented her need of a pack? Else, maybe it was the attitude, the confidence that a loner carried when riding solo. She had little confidence. What was that defining characteristic?

Unconsciously her large black eyes had drifted back to the little flame rising and falling from the box held loosely in Axelle's fingers. You like it, the lady asked, do you like it? You like it? Bindu's head tilted sideways by a small degree, and she nodded absently. The flame was very soothing, even though big fire was sometimes scary. "Where did you find it?" she questioned quietly, gaze flickering back towards the shed. Maybe there were still a few bits of scavenge that she hadn't found yet- maybe there was a fire box in there somewhere.

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