mourning in the warning.

Eris Eternity · 05-31-2011, 05:58 AM

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Word Count → 327

So quiet, so respectful -- he bowed his head without so much as knowing her status, giving her proper courtesy where it was due. The name was foreign to her, but the place was not -- her chartreuse eyes seemed to recognize him then, taking the mottled canine in with renewed vigor. The dogs had sheltered her for a night, she remembered, and though they had been cautious of her, they had provided her with a meal and a place to sleep nonetheless. It was only through Itzcitla's hunting and the rare kindnesses of strangers like the Holt canines that she had been able to survive the trek northward, though it had been her own poor choice of travel route, time, and numerous other factors to make her journey all the more difficult. Idiot she was with regard to survival, it was a wonder she'd survived at all. Sirius had helped her to see some of these things, but in practice Eris was still a novice, floundering her way through the world. Her generally reserved albeit cordial mannerisms in social conduct were perhaps her only saving graces, though they had proven particularly useful in the formation of Salsola.

Knowing his clan now, the coyote still did not recognize the canine before her. She hadn't spoken to many of them; most had seemed afraid of her, gaunt as she was, and even more had been wary of Itzcitla, half-frozen as he was. The sable-hued woman primarily remembered one seemingly tiny youth who had seemed completely enraptured with her stories, but this could not be the same canine. Could it? She squinted at him, and smiled. “I remember you Holts,” she said, nodding her head earnestly. “You were good to me. I'm sorry for whatever's happened to you,” she added, uncertain as to whether the man's tale was sad or happy, though she assumed the former, as he might still be in those mountains if it were the latter.

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