chills and hills

Skoll Haskel · 12-15-2011, 03:48 PM

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Skoll Haskel

i need another story
something to get off my chest

my life is kinda boring
need something that i can confess

The sound of hoof-beats startled the child, though Skoll was unafraid. He often had to be chased away from the stables; his caretakers feared that he would spook the horses or otherwise be hurt by them. But he loved horses from afar, and his ears perked up when he saw the pale stallion running toward him. There was a darker creature on its back, a wolf who soon leaped off with such skill that the boy’s tail started to wagging.

“Bonjour!” the prince yapped once the young man jogged toward him. The French greeting was one of the few words he still retained from his mother’s language; the amount of English spoken by others in the pack had altered his speech, though he still slipped in the odd foreign word here and there. Still unafraid of the stranger, who greeted him with a friendly laugh, he stood and pricked his light ginger ears forward to listen.

“Not too far,” Skoll insisted quickly, squinting at the prospect of disobeying and running away from home. “Court just over—uhhh.” He looked around at the hills again and frowned. “Not far,” he repeated.

The stranger lowered himself more and more to get closer to his eye level, and Skoll’s green eyes fixed on the ring swinging from the neck-chain. Anything shiny or new grabbed his attention immediately as something worth checking out, especially if he could gift it to his mother or hide it away for himself.

The boy giggled at the dark wolf’s funny way of talking, his toothy white grin only broadening when a hand reached out to ruffle his head. Tongue lolling, he chattered away at the other. “My friend Caspa half ghost!” he said. “She likes parties!” His tail wagged behind him—at least until he was called small. He narrowed his eyes once more.

“I son of King!” Skoll barked in as authoritative a voice as he could muster. “Not small! Prince Skoll Haskel gun’ be big—bigger than you!” This last was accompanied by the stomp of a paw, and he sauntered up to the sitting grownup, jabbing at him with his nose before sitting down almost in his lap. “An’ who’s Caesar?” he asked, cocking his head and giving the man a suspicious eye.

Word Count: 378 | Oh my god cute overload. 8D This is going to be awesome.

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