Word Count :: 391 I want to keep this thread as civil as possible; if it is necessary for Naniko and Alaki to leave rather than argue or fight, they will.
Subject to the Angela's whims that day he had agreed to follow through with her proposed idea, seeing some benefits and possibilities within them; for each of their children contrasted each other greatly, together they would compliment each other and make up for what each party lacked. Hunkered down in the bush awaiting the return of his daughter and the white queens son it became quickly apparent that neither Angelo or Angela could remain still nor take the situation all that seriously for any length of time, bursting out into small fits of laughter here and there; it was rare for the both of them to put aside their other tasks and do something as.. trivial as playing matchmake to their own children, although so far it had proven more then entertaining and a good way to kill time.
Shaking his head at the white Angela's giggles once more he waited for her to gain control of herself before fidgeting about and moving so that he could see the approaching figures better, snorting at the site of his strange child and apparently, the Angela's even stranger son. “That is.. one way of describing things” each word was drawn out, the storm coloured male unsure of what exactly to make of the pair they had apparently just made. Dragging himself up onto two paws he rolled his shoulders and began to follow the Angela's lead back towards the cave when it became apparent that he and the queen had now gotten themselves caught red handed as the call reached out through their lands.
Turning in the direction of where the summons of sorts had come from, he inclined his head for his daughter to follow, placing a hand upon her short hair and ruffling it in a small show of affection before picking up the pace and making his way with the others out to the borders. Where upon the strangers came into view he slowed his pace, drawing up beside the queen and reaching out of sheer habit to the handle of his katana, not in threat or warning but a mannerism of his that was ingrained into him much like the scars that coated his grey form. “I am Alaki and this my daughter Aoi” he added to Naniko's introductions, eyes fixed upon the pair of foreigners with mild curiosity.
Photo courtesy of Khevyel
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