Word Count → 488 :: She can smell him or something I guess? >__> He too stupid to say anything.
He had been in the pack for a few weeks, and although life had taken a lot of adjustment, Levent Kartal was content. He was more scarce than most of his new fellows, preferring to spend a lot of time outside of the territory, but he returned to his new home most nights and did his best to meet the d’Artisans and at least help provide food for them. Spending time with the livestock had helped as well, as they needed extra hands with the communal animals, and it was the duty he had taken to the best.
Lev had spent a good couple of hours sitting with them and chatting while Wilson searched (in vain) for barn-mice; there were a lot of other cats in the territory, a colony belonging to one senile old lady in particular, and the pack was not for want of mousers. The luperci good-naturedly offered scraps of his meal to his friend before the cat strolled off for his noontime nap, relaxed enough for once to make the journey back to the house on his own.
The wolf decided to explore a bit on his own, and he bade the communal horses farewell before making his way toward the smell of brine. He wasn’t sure why he did so—the sight of the water still made him uneasy—but he supposed he needed to get over his fear sooner or later. There seemed to be no inland packs in Nova Scotia, after all, and it wasn’t as if he could avoid the ocean forever in a water-locked place such as this.
A cloying smell reached his nose as he walked, one that elicited a stronger reaction in him than the salt wind. Pupils dilated, he froze and tested the air again. Although it had been a long time, his instincts if anything recognized the smell of heat. He was about to force himself to head back home anyway, not wanting to share an awkward moment with a pack mate, but then the wind blew again and brought the identity of the woman in question.
Levent trembled, his abdomen tightening, and walked toward the sea.
His stride became easy as he came closer, and he had enough control of himself to wear a slightly supercilious smile as per usual. It was as if nothing was amiss, as if that tantalizing tint wasn’t in the air, but then he saw her and stumbled slightly, his hand shooting out to grab a tree.
Hotaru had her staff, and she was going through almost ritual-like movements with it, all of which prominently displayed her grace and form. He watched for a while, forgetting himself, and he could even forget her heat; he could appreciate her for what she was without hormones screwing everything up. There was much and more he didn’t know about this she-wolf, he decided, and that was something he would have to change.
Levent by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
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