seeds of a new life

[Loviere Dinabalo]

[html]Loviere was generally better at making good first impressions. The magnitude of what he was trying to do however was almost too much for the simple-minded man. He had not had a place to call home for months. And joining a pack was not usually a temporary thing. His parents had told him nothing of communal life - their lessons had been on individual survival. Making the adjustment might prove difficult, but he was willing to give it a try, particularly when he was so burdened by his leg. He could not help but lift his head with a faint sense of pride as Shawchert inspected his carving. Woodworking was as much a part of his life as eating at times. As necessary for his survival as anything else. With the wood in hand, he could almost feel the essence of the tree's spirit.

"You carve too? And I traded by own for this belt, but I can make fishing poles. And... I don't know what else. I never have tried."

Loviere grabbed the wooden piece gently and set it next to Octavian. The raccoon was generally a good help at carrying things for him. He took a moment to look beyond Shawchert, trying to make out signs of the pack within the borders. When Shaw spoke again, Loviere opened his mouth to speak, but the raccoon's rough speech cut him off.

"I 'have good, promise," said Oct. Loviere shook his head with a soft grunt of amusement. His companion had not quite mastered the art of High Speech, though the two had known each other practically since birth. He watched the raccoon stand upon its hind legs, waving its arms in the direction of Shawchert.

"The day he is bad will be the day I have him for supper."[/html]