to plant a seed

Eris Eternity · 06-12-2011, 03:59 AM

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Word Count » 401
MORE lies. Big Grin <333

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

The sable-shaded woman had not enjoyed her time alone. She had been alone for just two weeks in her life prior to that long journey north -- the weeks just after Astaroth's death, when she had wandered alone and hungry. Were it not for Tonalli, she might have wandered forever in that bleak landscape, all red clay and rolling, flat plains. At least, she would have wandered until she starved -- even then, Eris had little idea of how to provide for herself. Now, it was not so much the case -- the coyote woman had finally learned, thanks in large part to her lovely Sirius, who was so gracious as to share his hunter's knowledge with her without excessive mockery. He hadn't proclaimed for all the world that Eris was a useless hunter, unable to provide for herself -- the sable-shaded woman's secrets had been kept well by her Sirius, and for that, she was glad.

The coyote woman smiled at his single-worded answer, figuring for herself that he was simply a man of few words. Some had their tongues cut out, others had fallen silent in childhood or early adulthood for reasons unknown, and still others had never been gifted with speech. The sable hybrid herself was a good conversationalist and one who enjoyed speaking, though small talk was not so enjoyable to her. She preferred her conversations to have substance -- however, those who were quiet made for good listeners, and as her sharp eyes regarded the male, that icy smile did not fade from her muzzle, instead presenting pearly teeth to him in a gesture of friendliness.

“I see that you're one of few words. That's fine -- I wouldn't require conversation from any of my subjects, so long as they serve well enough,” the coyote confessed, still regarding his musculature with her appreciative grin. In truth, she might have asked for conversation from some subjects -- it wouldn't do to have a stoic and silent Sirius, after all -- but for their soldiers, Salsola needn't philosophers or singers. They needed muscle and brute strength, and this was one thing Felix Tihomir did not seem to lack. “I do, however, require loyalty,” she said, the grin fading from her mouth slowly as this sentence spilled forth. There was a sudden seriousness that had fallen over the sable woman's face; her impish, playful grin had all but disappeared.

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