01-17-2010, 08:58 AM
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Feel free to powerplay his foot coming loose or whatever :] I don't mind!
Word Count: 577 - SoSuWriMo
childhood repression: an expert at work
She kept chewing on ropes and while some of them grew tighter as she did so, when she actually managed to cut them it felt quite a lot better. Still his muscles ached as if they were about to explode; there was no way he was telling her how long he'd actually been standing there! Not that he knew it himself. Her hands traveled across ropes here and there, as if testing them and trying to find the solution to this knot he had placed himself in. Emwe himself was not in a position where he could actually see what she was doing all of the time, restricted by this vicious coil that threatened to slowly strangle his life, and so as she moved around him he simply let his silver eyes trace all sorts of uninteresting things on the ground, when they were not shut with pain. Her demeanor shifted from really unpleasant to somewhere in between as she started small-talking, and Emwe could not decide whether he liked this or not. She was perhaps being fake? He did not know. Perhaps he had overreacted when she laughed before, but he really could not see the humor in his pain. Still, though he wasn't sure if he even wanted to talk to her at all (but she was helping him, after all! Such a dilemma this was.), he still responded automatically to the quite familiar questions she asked. The despair that had manifested itself as a big tumor in his throat and threatened to bring proper tears to his eyes shrunk a little, and his voice was not so thick as he thought it would be when he spoke. "I'm Emwe, Emwe Soul." The conversation moved much as the female did, circling around him and finding new answers to the situation. He decided that he would just stop thinking now, and not mind what was happening. If he just kept talking, he might just forget all the aching and stuff. It kept lessening anyway, as she managed to cut and untangle more and more ropes.
"We probably have met, but maybe you don't remember." Emwe had been taken to every pack meeting there was since he was born, and if this person had stayed here for some time she was bound to have seen him at some point. Still, though, seeing was not the same of meeting, but Emwe always believed that his parents must have held some sort of presentation of their children when they had been born. And if not, who didn't know Alexey? Everyone knew Alexey. Alexey was awesome. And Conor knew a lot of people, too. It was just that Emwe was so busy with adventures and stuff, always running this way and that, and never having the time to just sit and talk idly. He was far too... energetic. His puppy fat was slowly disappearing from his body, but his total body mass did not lessen. The fat was simpyl being slowly replaced by muscle. In no time he would perhaps to some resemble his bulky father in terms of shape, not color. "So who are you, then?" It wasn't likely that Emwe would recognise any name she gave. He didn't pay attention, though he was certain that she recognised his own. After all, he was the son of Haku. How much more famous could you get, unless you were Haku yourself? The young male was very proud of his father.
Word Count: 577 - SoSuWriMo
She kept chewing on ropes and while some of them grew tighter as she did so, when she actually managed to cut them it felt quite a lot better. Still his muscles ached as if they were about to explode; there was no way he was telling her how long he'd actually been standing there! Not that he knew it himself. Her hands traveled across ropes here and there, as if testing them and trying to find the solution to this knot he had placed himself in. Emwe himself was not in a position where he could actually see what she was doing all of the time, restricted by this vicious coil that threatened to slowly strangle his life, and so as she moved around him he simply let his silver eyes trace all sorts of uninteresting things on the ground, when they were not shut with pain. Her demeanor shifted from really unpleasant to somewhere in between as she started small-talking, and Emwe could not decide whether he liked this or not. She was perhaps being fake? He did not know. Perhaps he had overreacted when she laughed before, but he really could not see the humor in his pain. Still, though he wasn't sure if he even wanted to talk to her at all (but she was helping him, after all! Such a dilemma this was.), he still responded automatically to the quite familiar questions she asked. The despair that had manifested itself as a big tumor in his throat and threatened to bring proper tears to his eyes shrunk a little, and his voice was not so thick as he thought it would be when he spoke. "I'm Emwe, Emwe Soul." The conversation moved much as the female did, circling around him and finding new answers to the situation. He decided that he would just stop thinking now, and not mind what was happening. If he just kept talking, he might just forget all the aching and stuff. It kept lessening anyway, as she managed to cut and untangle more and more ropes.
"We probably have met, but maybe you don't remember." Emwe had been taken to every pack meeting there was since he was born, and if this person had stayed here for some time she was bound to have seen him at some point. Still, though, seeing was not the same of meeting, but Emwe always believed that his parents must have held some sort of presentation of their children when they had been born. And if not, who didn't know Alexey? Everyone knew Alexey. Alexey was awesome. And Conor knew a lot of people, too. It was just that Emwe was so busy with adventures and stuff, always running this way and that, and never having the time to just sit and talk idly. He was far too... energetic. His puppy fat was slowly disappearing from his body, but his total body mass did not lessen. The fat was simpyl being slowly replaced by muscle. In no time he would perhaps to some resemble his bulky father in terms of shape, not color. "So who are you, then?" It wasn't likely that Emwe would recognise any name she gave. He didn't pay attention, though he was certain that she recognised his own. After all, he was the son of Haku. How much more famous could you get, unless you were Haku yourself? The young male was very proud of his father.