 It's fine! :3 Also, please let me know if I go too far with Jimson noticing mannerisms, etc. He's supposed to be particularly observant and a little scheme-y, but I don't want to misread anything and have him notice something he's not supposed to ^^;. The young male's eyes flashed in response to Jimson's glib remark, though he didn't chastise the dog for brushing off the warning. Jimson had expected that the wolf-dog might get a little irritated when Jimson responded so flippantly, and this was fine -- he didn't necessarily wish to irritate the stranger, but he found himself hoping to be invited into the packlands, and he didn't want to seem desperate to do so. Th' best way t'get people t'do what y'want is t'make 'em think it was their idea t' begin with, his father said. Then they ain't doin' you no favors an' they dun feel like you owe 'em anythin'. And it seemed that the Pyr might be on the right path, for instead of voicing his frustration, the younger male wondered, “You can fight?” Jimson was sure the other male had tried to hide the interest in his voice -- and for the most part he had succeeded; any dog but Jimson would likely have just assumed he was making conversation. So there had been encounters with violent shifters -- possibly even injuries or death? Regardless, they had been serious enough that this young'n was interested in someone who could protect the packlands. "Yeah, I can hold mah own, anyways," he said. "Ain't many got a size advantage on me, an' I'm pretty decent with mah staff." "That's a long time," the sentry remarked in response to Jimson's travel time. "Why'd you leave?" he asked, dropping his authoritative tone for a curious one, just for an instant. Jimson paused for a moment, lowering his eyes. He didn't really have a problem with sharing the events that had led to his disembarkation -- he'd have to tell someone, sooner or later, if he expected to be trusted enough to be allowed in -- but it pained him to talk about it. So he kept his reply succinct, as though to spare himself the pain of thinking about it in too great of detail. "Mah family, we was sheep farmers. We had a string o' tornadas come through, destroyed ever'thin'. Weren't no sheep left t'farm after, an' no farm either, fer that matter. Wouldn't much t'stay fer." The great dog nodded as the stranger shared his own name. "Good t'meet ya, Mister Haskel." |
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