just a note, you should always remember to keep your posts in past tense, rather than switching around from present and then back. ;]

“Ireland, indeed,” he replied, smiling faintly. “Ye know of it then, I assume.” At least his origin wasn’t a completely mystery to the girl—one soul at the very least might possess some insight into the society that had birthed him. And yet he still remained a bit confused as to what had frightened her as she continued, though he knew it wasn’t his place to pry. He barely knew the girl—hardly more than a simple name—and even if it was a part of his nature to poke his nose where it didn’t belong he was very well aware that she might just snap it right off his face in return. So he let it go. “Perhaps ye need learn some confidence then, yeah?” he replied, allowing his claws to gently pull at the hair on his chin.

“It ain’t good for ye girl t'be scared of a little shadow movin’ on the wall. Yer da sound like a great man from what ye say and all, but if ye can’t be alone, then what good was he in his teachings, eh?” He didn’t intend to be insulting if that’s how she might perceive his words, but all he saw was a scared little girl ranting on about how her imagination gets the best of her, and that this is the very first time ever away from the “safety” of her family. It disturbed him a little as he didn’t even think she was all that young to be so unsure—but then again, he’d been on his own from a young age with no other choice, wandering the streets of Dublin without a soul on the earth to show concern for his wellbeing.

It was all he knew, and all he understood, so to empathize with the girl it took a bit of his own imagination to work. She was sheltered, he realized, and in some way he almost felt pity toward her and her circumstances. He saw only the bad to originate from such an upbringing, not the good, forgetting momentarily about his own troubles and hardship, feeling alone and unloved as he sought food and shelter each night. But perhaps it all had to do with their chanced encounter and the situation at hand with the she-wolf running for her life from a nonexistent spectre.

you’ve got him spot on, ‘cause he’d never try to hit someone without provocation, but you can always throw a quick pm someone’s way before including any powerplay. ;D

His words apparently struck a nerve. Her entire demeanor shifted, snapping at him in defense of her father. Obviously he’d meant a lot to her, and he understood her wish to defend him at all costs—love was a powerful thing, though for the time being he couldn’t think of a creature alive that he held any sort of particular affection toward. Shockingly, as soon as the words passed her lips she flinched back, cowering before him as though she expected to be struck. Utterly taken aback, he merely gaped at the girl in surprise. Finally, she rose from her wilted position, awkwardly assuming something a little more proper before him. He still didn’t speak as she began to reason her actions, presenting an explanation that wasn’t needed.

“Then i’ don’ seem as though ye’d left of yer own free will, eh? No won’er yer scared clean ou’ o’ yer wits. Ye run away from home t’nae be a burden on yer dear da an’ ‘is wan. Y’know, girlie, a pack is mean’ t’be a family in all aspects. E’eryone is meant t’look af’er each other and all o’ that. Did ye hones’ly seem that unwanted t’yer da af’er all? If anyt’in’, I bet ye could a ‘elped ‘em out—nae go’ in t’way.”

He knew it wasn’t his place to tell her what to do or how to live her life, but he couldn’t help throwing in his two pence where he saw fit. And for the girl to have abandon her family simply because her father had found a new mate seemed positively ridiculous. Even if her mother was truly a twat, shattering his previous illusion of being absolutely sheltered from all harsh aspects of the world, it was no reason to leave behind all that she knew to venture out into the world when she couldn’t handle it. Regardless of a lifted hand constantly waving in her direction and imminent fear toward her mother he didn’t see reason to throw everything away unless she knew where she was going. And she didn’t. Now, she was halfway around the world and running away from shadows. Perhaps if they’d met on better terms he wouldn’t be so judgmental. But he couldn’t help valuing family when he himself had none.

In his skewed aspect he saw her rising up in age to turn on her mother, baring fangs and snapping at the creature like the true animals they were. She’d bred hatred and fear into her daughter—violence begot violence, and he saw no reason for the child not to fight back against the parent when the ultimate goal was survival. But this was merely his own view on life, and he couldn’t force his beliefs on her—especially if in the end she wished to be a pacifist under all circumstances, separating herself from all bloodshed.

He gathered she’d been forced away from her beloved father by his new mate—the replacement for her abusive and obviously missing mother, for she hadn’t filled in what had happened to her dame. A sad story in his eyes, that family could be so expendable. He’d been expendable once, twice, perhaps more times than he cared to remember, but that didn’t stop him holding a fierce loyalty to those that made their way into his heart—until they turned on him and stabbed him in the back. Then, and only then, were they just as expendable as trash. His expression darkened, narrowing his lips into a thin line and just faintly furrowing his hairy brow.

Even without overtly expressive nuances taking hold of his face one could tell by just looking at him that he saw disgust in the actions of this girl’s family. He gave everyone a single shot the first time, opening his arms even if his heart remained guarded. He couldn’t quite understand how one could live without love and friendship, for the affection and kindness of another lessened his own worldly distress. “An’ wot did yer da have t’say ‘bout this, eh?” he asked, voice gaining an icy edge—not directed toward the girl, but toward those that’d wronged her and sent her away.

How pathetic, he couldn’t help thinking, that this girl’s father would toss aside his own child for a woman. Granted, she was old enough to be on her own, but physical maturity did not always mean maturity of the mind. Perhaps this girl still needed a guiding hand for at least a little while longer, and her father had not provided this. “Well, ‘e wasn’ exac’ly lonely wi'h a daugh’er t’love ‘im, now was ‘e?” Kian stated bluntly. Of course, the father’s loneliness was of a different sort than a simple lack of companionship—one that his daughter could not fulfill unless under sordid circumstances, and he fully understood this. But he couldn’t help feeling argumentative with her choice of wording. It was simply his nature. He valued friendship, family, and loyalty—things that his girl didn’t seem to have received back home, and this is what had sent her into the harsh world all alone. Greece was a far away land, showing the she-wolf had traveled a long, long way from everything and everyone that she knew. All security was lost as she was trust into an alien landscape with unfamiliar souls abound.

He’d done the same, of course, but he’d left nothing of value behind in Ireland. Everything had been taken from him, and so he had nothing left to tie him to a land with gently rolling hills of emerald green. Instead, he took to the world, allowing all to be his neighbor and whatever land he currently trod on to become his home for a time. At least he’d die with many different sights in his mind—but he’d rather a warm body to curl up beside every night to chase away the chill of darkness. These were the things he valued. One day he wished to settle down with a family of his own—children optional, as that wasn’t all there was to a family—and know he felt secure and adored. In the end, his happiness would always be short lived, but for a time—just a brief time—he wished to be content and experience what he’d long envied.

He was the dog happily waiting at the door for his loved one to come home, always greeting with a smile and a steadily waving tail. One soul—just one—would complete his world, and that was all that he desired and nothing more.

In truth Kian did not mind the rain. He preferred his coat to be dry, but the sight of a cloud filled sky, pouring its contents onto the darkened earth did emit a sort of beauty that he could not deny. Ireland was filled with rain and emerald grass, when he escaped the confines of the city to travel into the open wilderness. Trains and automobiles had long since fallen into disrepair, so all transportation had to be taken on foot alone. He was built for speed and endurance, so despite his lazy streak he could travel quickly and effectively when the time came. “And ye should defend yer da when ye feel someone is dishonorin’ his name, ye should,” he said, his voice as rough as his scruffy exterior. She went on to literally explain how she’d gotten here. Of course, he was accustomed to people misinterpreting his meaning at times with his specific dialect, and so he ran with the conversation as it was. No use dwelling on silly little misunderstandings that didn’t even matter—they were just trying to make light conversation at this point as it was.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, intrigued slightly at the idea of a pack that allowed all canine species to co-exist. Their natures were all different, and yet he felt that some had evolved past such petty differences that once held them back, and so separate. “A coyote? Nae. Bu’ I believe I heard somewhere they look like smaller wolves or some’hin’,” Kian said, thinking back on what he’d learned about coyotes. Dogs he knew, but not coyotes. He’d never met one, as they weren’t native to any of the British Isles. They were a North American breed only, so unless they’d traveled, he’d never have chance to met one outside of this place. Perhaps this was one new experience he was entitled to by his relocation. Either way, he wasn’t particularly concerned. “Yer makin’ me blush,” he said with a small laugh to her last statement, averting his eyes in humility as he attempted to break all seriousness that’d somehow slipped so subtly into the conversation.

“Bu’ I’d like very much t’find a place I could sincerely call home,” the canine continued, suddenly wondering if he’d said too much in regards to his own weakness. He had a habit of letting his mouth flap without much thought, and the consequences could be immense at times—like inadvertently insulting the girl and her father and figuratively exposing his belly like a chastised puppy. At times, he was an open book that needed help to close its pages before he got hurt. He was a lonely soul, and it showed in his unconscious willingness to reveal himself to the world, hoping for someone to personally desire to come right on in past the barriers that surrounded his heart.