The Art Market: Part 1

Ralla · 01-12-2011, 07:41 PM

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You're sorry? I'm late too :S

Not much after both Ralla and Noss had loosed their voices came another large wolf who stood on par with Noss. To her relief, Noss did not puffer up his fur in pride--only stood a little straighter out of respect--which made a note in Ralla's head that she might've wanted to jumped off of Sugar's back to be respectful as well. Doing so, she could only assume that the wolf in front of them was Shawchert--the alpha that Valinta had told the siblings about--and so Ralla assumed her most respectful posture and facade, having the sense not to even try a boasting stance. She had thought--maybe once or twice--that Noss would introduce himself and her instead of leaving his younger sister to do all the talking, but it was a baseless hope; Noss just didn't like to talk unless he was trying to make a point. Little did she know about how much he really talked, lately, when he was interested... Still, it was becoming painfully plain that since this was her idea and general quest to take the long route, Noss would have none of the formalities in-between. The large wolf soon introduced himself, and Ralla's suspicions were confirmed.

"Greetings...Sir Menue...?" she said tentatively, unsure how to address the alpha since the only tops she had known were 'chiefs'. It seemed proper enough... "My brother and I--" she was then cut-off by Noss's clearing of his throat, and the two siblings shared another moment of silent conversation, Noss's argument being 'I don't want to be dragged into any of this' and Ralla's retort comprising 'It's just a greeting; don't get so uptight' and so on and so forth with strange stares and facial expressions until Ralla got the courage to just blow him off... Which went surprisingly well.

"My brother and I," she repeated, "are here to see your new pack. I believe Chief Dawali had visited, but I had heard that your pack is full of craftsmen. If you would, could we trade?" The thought striking her, she briefly reached around the disconnect the long fire-tender's ceremonial staff from its makeshift moorings and presented it before the chief. "Altough my main goal is to have this thing properly carved..." The man before them seemed kind enough; he may have been Noss's size, but the personality difference already appeared universally different. Although strangely, she had to admit that Shawchert had similar coloring to Strel. She wondered if Noss was thinking the same thing, judging by how he seemed to size up the other alpha. His stare made her resume--more covertly--their silent argument, although she was the one advocating a change in attitude now.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

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