05-21-2008, 09:41 AM
[html]
http://avatars.ourdarkarts.net/souls/ot ... bottom.jpg) no-repeat; background-position: center bottom; width: 400px;" align="center">
OOC: Don't worry. Next week, probably on Tuesday I'll post a notice for scarce-ness notice, so between 27th May and the 1st June I will be quite... unavailable, I should say. Anyway, here we go.
Lubomir could smell her. He could tell it was a female, yes, but the smell of old blood and dust caught him off guard. In woods he certainly did not expect anyone to smell of dust. He had first thought of leaving, he was no boulevardier, and he certainly did not feel like socialising. But that would mean he was rude, his manners rusty and his ways feral. He couldn't live with himself like that. And she herself did not seem strong, and perhaps that was what he could smell. It pained him, to see her stumble. What could have happened to such an innocent looking wolf? He thought of Ember again and his heart lurched. Would she be his friend still, with him as wounded as he was? Unwillingly he brought himself back to the present just in time to catch her words. Was she that much in pain or was her voice naturally low? Why was she holding herself like that? What exactly had this ivory-coloured female been through?
He stood up wearily, out of politeness. He couldn't bring himself to simply sit while she stood. He was on their borders, in their lands, and she could turn him away with one word. 'My fairest lady, I come in peace. I am but a weary explorer and as you can tell, I am hurt. While I do not require assistance, let me assure you of my good intentions. I do not wish to attack you or your pack. I am Lubomir, of Shadowed Sun. Whose territory do I trespass on?' Lubomir's voice carried none of the usual foreign lilt and while it was friendly enough it also sounded slightly defeated, as if something had gone out in him. He could tell something horrific had happened to this female, but only because he could read her pain. He did not know or could even guess the true cause. 'You look tired. Please sit with me. Ought I to shift for you, or do I remain as I am?'
[/html]
Lubomir could smell her. He could tell it was a female, yes, but the smell of old blood and dust caught him off guard. In woods he certainly did not expect anyone to smell of dust. He had first thought of leaving, he was no boulevardier, and he certainly did not feel like socialising. But that would mean he was rude, his manners rusty and his ways feral. He couldn't live with himself like that. And she herself did not seem strong, and perhaps that was what he could smell. It pained him, to see her stumble. What could have happened to such an innocent looking wolf? He thought of Ember again and his heart lurched. Would she be his friend still, with him as wounded as he was? Unwillingly he brought himself back to the present just in time to catch her words. Was she that much in pain or was her voice naturally low? Why was she holding herself like that? What exactly had this ivory-coloured female been through?
He stood up wearily, out of politeness. He couldn't bring himself to simply sit while she stood. He was on their borders, in their lands, and she could turn him away with one word. 'My fairest lady, I come in peace. I am but a weary explorer and as you can tell, I am hurt. While I do not require assistance, let me assure you of my good intentions. I do not wish to attack you or your pack. I am Lubomir, of Shadowed Sun. Whose territory do I trespass on?' Lubomir's voice carried none of the usual foreign lilt and while it was friendly enough it also sounded slightly defeated, as if something had gone out in him. He could tell something horrific had happened to this female, but only because he could read her pain. He did not know or could even guess the true cause. 'You look tired. Please sit with me. Ought I to shift for you, or do I remain as I am?'