the company we keep

Jimson Morris · 09-16-2012, 05:56 PM

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Word count: 300

The old house was a bit gloomy, but there was just enough thin sunlight filtering in that Jimson was able to get a decent idea of the space -- high ceilings and large rooms, it seemed, filled with old furniture and a wide staircase that dominated the immediate area. Within the house the myriad of canine scents was even more apparent; it was obvious that a few canines made their home here, or at the very least spent a fair amount of their time in the old house. One such denizen soon made herself apparent, stepping quietly out of the shadows of the stair.

She was fairly petite, of coyote lineage with a thick, auburn mane cascading down her back and muted earth tones coloring her form, limbs and ears ending in a dark charcoal black. She remained on the stairs above him, just out of the shadows, which was just a little disconcerting, considering he was used to staring down at people. "Hello. What brings you here?" "Hey, sorry," he replied, thumping his fluffy tail against the wooden door frame a couple of times in a friendly manner. "Hope I ain't disturbin' ya, ma'am. I was jus' lookin' fer young Mister Haskell, is he around, mebbe? Was gonna see if mebbe he wanted t' take a walk down t' the harber wi' me." He smiled genially. "If he ain't busy, anyways. M' name's Jimson, by th' way."

The dog suddenly felt a little sheepish -- it was almost like he was a pup, asking if his friend could come out and play. And he had doubts now, too; he'd only met Skoll the one time, and maybe the younger male would think it weird that Jimson was now asking him to accompany him places. He shifted his weight uncertainly.

Table credit Raze.

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