11-25-2007, 07:06 PM
So the coyotes here were of the angry type. It would explain the rumors she had heard back 127.0.0.1 and she was happy to answer the pups questions. A long time ago the humans lived in a city where I grew up. The elders of my pack pass the stories down about how all sorts of animals were kept in fake jungles and fed for the humans' amusement. Such novelties as wild animals were bought with little trinkets and things. We eventually busted out once he human kind disappeared and we took over the place called a zoo. We have nice den areas and large fresh water pools everywhere. It is quite lovely now, but I couldn't imagine living there when the humans did.
She remembered back on the area as she spoke. Large grassy fields that once held strange striped creatures and different types of deer, great stoned in places for wolves, and other creatures who hunted, each with a large pool of water and their own warm den, an once icy area for strange little birds who stories said died off or were eaten. The strange thing was that many of the creatures had survived and left the area, but the wolves stayed. It was the best area to raise any type of pup while in the present the can that had been bopped back rolled over her paw while she thought. The pups she raised were quiet, abused, and needed mending most of the time. Their usually play fighting was often stopped by an angry father who didn't much care for the noise and India was called in to remove them to go somewhere else. If the packs here let their young wander free then it might mean that parents were just loving but busy. The can rolled to a clunky stop somewhere in the back of the room, making far more noise than needed. Her red eyes lowered to the ground and she sighed deeply.
If the pup's dad was a dog, and wolves weren't allowed in the Land of Wuffluvers... A strange picture grew up in India's mind. A love affair? Very Romeo and Juliet of them, though the entire idea held a strange romance to it. She walked up next to the pup and walked around him, sizing up the half breed. He was a few months old, talkative, and had no problem with bopping a can. An exploring little one only meant boredom at 127.0.0.1. All in all this little guy wasn't the pups she remembered. Not in need of simple games and stimulation to help forget the tragic bite marks that riddled their backs. The gray pup in front of her had the reminiscent smell of those pups though and she caught herself smelling the nap of the pup and giving him a damn near motherly lick. India pulled back nearly immediately as if she might have harmed or scared the pup. The taste echoed around in her mouth and for a second her eyes glazed over as far too many memories pushed up through the empty chasm of her thoughts.
Don't mind that... I'm use to acting like a mom, even if I haven't had my own litter yet. The pups I helped take care of were abused by their parents. You don't seem at all like them, in fact you are a bit better off than they were I believe. She grinned, hoping to put herself at ease maybe more than the pup. Oh sorry for the lack of an introduction, I'm India. I don't belong to a pack anymore. So no nice pack name anymore. In her head the name echoed though, Brotara.
She remembered back on the area as she spoke. Large grassy fields that once held strange striped creatures and different types of deer, great stoned in places for wolves, and other creatures who hunted, each with a large pool of water and their own warm den, an once icy area for strange little birds who stories said died off or were eaten. The strange thing was that many of the creatures had survived and left the area, but the wolves stayed. It was the best area to raise any type of pup while in the present the can that had been bopped back rolled over her paw while she thought. The pups she raised were quiet, abused, and needed mending most of the time. Their usually play fighting was often stopped by an angry father who didn't much care for the noise and India was called in to remove them to go somewhere else. If the packs here let their young wander free then it might mean that parents were just loving but busy. The can rolled to a clunky stop somewhere in the back of the room, making far more noise than needed. Her red eyes lowered to the ground and she sighed deeply.
If the pup's dad was a dog, and wolves weren't allowed in the Land of Wuffluvers... A strange picture grew up in India's mind. A love affair? Very Romeo and Juliet of them, though the entire idea held a strange romance to it. She walked up next to the pup and walked around him, sizing up the half breed. He was a few months old, talkative, and had no problem with bopping a can. An exploring little one only meant boredom at 127.0.0.1. All in all this little guy wasn't the pups she remembered. Not in need of simple games and stimulation to help forget the tragic bite marks that riddled their backs. The gray pup in front of her had the reminiscent smell of those pups though and she caught herself smelling the nap of the pup and giving him a damn near motherly lick. India pulled back nearly immediately as if she might have harmed or scared the pup. The taste echoed around in her mouth and for a second her eyes glazed over as far too many memories pushed up through the empty chasm of her thoughts.
Don't mind that... I'm use to acting like a mom, even if I haven't had my own litter yet. The pups I helped take care of were abused by their parents. You don't seem at all like them, in fact you are a bit better off than they were I believe. She grinned, hoping to put herself at ease maybe more than the pup. Oh sorry for the lack of an introduction, I'm India. I don't belong to a pack anymore. So no nice pack name anymore. In her head the name echoed though, Brotara.