Where my mistakes gain speed

Ithiel de le Poer · 12-28-2011, 10:32 AM

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Good! >D Same thing here, if only I could be faster. :c Sorry for delay. <3

Ithiel is by Kitty!

The stranger before Ithiel appeared to be heavily wolfish, but there was something almost hybrid about him, all the same. Ithiel had sized the trespasser up in the first few seconds, as was the dusky coyote's custom. He was rare to pass instant judgment, but this did not mean he did not seek to establish knowledge about those he encountered. Brilliant blue eyes gazed downward from the smear of darkness crossing the man's face, but Ithiel hardly registered this apologetic gesture.

For his part, Ithiel's jaw had parted and there was a look of utter consternation now splayed across his dusky face, sizing up this son of Gabriel. These words seemed to echo loudest of all the man said, and though it was a rarity, Ithiel would be unable to speak the man's pack affiliation later. Ithiel, the scout, who prided himself on sharp memory and sharper skills, registered only the man's name and his paternity. All else was forgotten.

For his momentary shock, Lystra tried to wheel around again, and the man gave another tug of the reins, his frustration exclaimed in a short, barking cry. Still, beast! And she was -- at least, mostly. The big horse still tossed her head and shifted her weight from one forepaw to the other, burying one into the dirt to paw at the earth every now and then. Lystra stilled for the moment, Ithiel still needed a moment to absorb what had been spoken; he remained looking down at the ill-tempered mare a moment before he swung his sharp gaze back toward Alder. Composed, Ithiel's expression was its usual gloomy look of seriousness.

It shames me to share blood with wolf trespassers, he said evenly, though Ithiel very much felt like he had after receiving his leg wound. Deeply cut was the only way to describe it. I did not know my father shared a den with a wolf, he added, though this was more for his benefit than his apparent half-brother. There was deep resentment written across the dusky coyote's face, though he had kept his tone relatively even. Ithiel could hardly stomach the thought of having a half-brother of so much wolfish blood, and he fought to keep his gaze on Alder rather than look away. He could not appear weak in this moment.

Ithiel had never met his father, and the dusky man had in fact idolized the former general prior to this moment. Despite this, he might have turned his back on Gabriel if the man were to present himself that moment. Perhaps later, Ithiel would recover from this shock; in this moment, however, the wound was too far to fresh to forget. In one simple sentence, much of his foundation had been rocked. It was as if an earthquakes, the rare earth quivering in the dead of a cold desert night, had just rattled his bones. He had experienced only the faintest tremors, perhaps aftershocks of some greater quake, and only twice in his life. Still, the feelings were the same, he thought.

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