trouble melts like lemon drops

Amos Arphralos · 10-22-2010, 10:14 PM

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It wasn't much polite to smoke inside. That's why the old wolf was sitting on a patched up rocking chair, puffing headily. Plus, Amos didn't think Cassius would approve much - the lad was very smart, almost too smart. Definitely wasn't from Amos' side of the family. Nah, it had taken Amos half the day, thirty nails, and four feet of duct tape to fix the rocking chair he was sitting in. Puzzle solving wasn't exactly the old wolf's forte.

That there place that Amos was now living in, D'Neville Mansion, was one of the better preserved buildings he'd ever seen. It smelled a bit, but that was inconsequential. No where was perfect, especially in a world once abandoned.

A few more tendrils of smoke arose from the edge of the Optime's muzzle. The end of the cigarette glowed a lovely orange, flaring up when Amos inhaled a lungful. Halfway through sucking in the addictive smoke, his lungs spasmed. Amos lost control of his breathing, and erupted into heavy coughing.

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Kaena Lykoi · 10-26-2010, 05:45 AM

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table © Alaine
Word Count :: 338 Oh lord, the mental image of a Luperci chilling on a rocking chair puffing a pipe is just... priceless. Simply priceless. Big Grin

Kaena did not often have reason to visit the mansion; there were few canines actually residing here. Halo was the only one to whom Kae paid regular visits; otherwise, she would only sporadically see the other residents, perhaps in passing in the halls or, far more likely, outside of the house itself. It was not that the Centurion hated the indoors; she simply found it distasteful to be indoors for prolonged times. She was from a different era entirely; in her youth, she had not even known her two-legged form existed. Her father had never passed this knowledge along to her, and her mother, well. Kaena did not remember anything about Delphine other than what the woman had inflicted upon her.

Today, she happened to be meandering past the gardens, taking a loop through the forest on an unusual, loose border route, when a harsh scent caught her nose. Mistaking it for fire, the hybrid turned on her heels and made her way quickly toward the source of the scent, tracking it with scarred muzzle thrust into the breeze. As she headed forward, loud hacking sounds caught her attention, and she spied the canine on the porch. Amos—Cassius's father. She had accepted him just recently, but she had not had the usual interrogation with him. It was apparent to Kaena the Arphralos man was older, and in whatever conscience she possessed, she could not have sent him along on his way, not even if he had not possessed a tie to Cassius. His paternal link to one of the clan simply made the case that much easier, and the coyote woman did not think Gabriel or anyone else would have doubted her decision to allow him immediate entrance.

“You okay?” the coyote asked as she loped up toward the porch, enjoying the recently-rediscovered flexibility and resiliency of her body. The marijuana helped, of course—thank Clover for that, surely—but the hybrid woman did not entirely discount her own tolerance to pain and injury from her recovery.

Amos Arphralos · 10-26-2010, 07:32 PM

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Haha yeees. Big Grin

His lungs calmed, and the dirty sensation that had previously filled his chest faded away. Once again, he could breathe, and breathe the old wolf did. Several heavy huffs followed his coughing, as Amos pulled in the oxygen he needed.

Her words caught him off guard. Before the old wolf had started to cough, the area had been devoid of anyone else. It seemed that his fretful hacking had summoned another wolf- and, not just any wolf. Blinking, Amos pulled his ears back docilely. It was Kaena Lykoi, as Cassius had informed him, Centurion of Inferni. The same wolf whom had accepted him into the pack. A high ranking wolf, and a kind wolf, and thusly a wolf to whom Amos would show utmost respect.

"Ah, mighty nice o' yah tah ask." Replied Amos hoarsely, before placing a paw in front of his muzzle and clearing his throat with a forced cough. Licking his lips, he sat up a little straighter, and flicked the dull edge of his cigarette off. "Ah'm fine, no need tah warry 'bout little ole me." He said all this amiably.

Ah, but where were his manners? Standing up, Amos grabbed the end of his hat, and bowed halfway. "May ah ask, 'ow are you, m' fair lady?" Nine years old, and his speech was still ingrained with the charmer talk of his youth.

Kaena Lykoi · 10-26-2010, 09:47 PM

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derp.

The silver-shaded coyote was one to smoke on occasion, though she had never made it a heavy habit. For one thing, she had no reliable resource for the tobacco-stuff, and for another, since discovering her morning toke ritual, she saw little need to smoke cigarettes. After all, they provided none of the arthritic relief and other benefits the other stuff did; she knew that well enough. Even so, she surely was not the kind of canine to berate another for such choices. Amos's smoking did not effect her, and so she saw no reason to speak out against it.

At the grizzled man's slow drawl, the hybrid smiled. His accented words flowed slow and steady from his muzzle, not so much marred as it was uplifted by the strange accent. It was similar to Cass's speech, but with a far deeper twang to it. Likely Amos's accent was Cassius's own, only unspoiled. “Just part of getting old, huh? Some mornings I wake up and I can't hardly move,” the coyote admitted, settling down to the porch beside him. Her four-legged form had no use for a chair, and she certainly would not have wanted for Amos to vacate his seat for her. “Doing fine today. Yourself?” she asked, the sable tip of her tail wavering in appreciation of the bow and question.

Amos Arphralos · 10-28-2010, 09:56 PM

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Sitting back down, Amos agreed to her age grievances with a laugh. Time was a savage thing, whisking away youth and leaving fragile bones and aching backs. Getting old was no fun. "Fahne as cream gr'vy." He replied to her answer, before returning the cigarette to the edge of his lips and drawing in another lungful. It felt good, to feel how the smoke filled his lungs.

That was one thing that had never changed, Amos' addiction to cigarettes. He'd been but a whippersnapper on the shoot, in a small burg in the middle of nowhere. His first pack he'd found underneath a bridge, tucked in an rotting cloth backpack. Since then, the old coyote had always smoked.

There were so many things that had changed, though. Closing his eyes and letting out a deep breathe laced with smoke, Amos picked through the memories. "Whay, way back when," the old coyote shared, the corners of his mouth curled up, "Ah use tah be quite the dancah. Whay, ah'd 'ave me a 'og killin' tahme, doin' thah squah dance with mah lovely mate."

Kaena Lykoi · 11-30-2010, 06:27 AM

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So, uh. I suck. A lot. :/

It was not so much Amos's accent that threw the silver-shaded coyote off; the unfamiliar turns of phrase left her rather baffled. She was too polite to inquire on the first occasion with the cream gravy statement, but she did not know what a square dance was, either, and as the elder coyote exhaled his smoke and spoke, she tilted her head to the side, yellow-golden eye focusing on him in curiosity. “What's a square dance? I imagine it's something you only do when you're young and your old bones don't ache, huh?” she asked, the tips of her yellow-white teeth showing against her lips. Her pace of speech seemed quite a bit faster than his, but she did not mind slow conversation -- the brief interaction she had with Amos and his age had told her enough. It was worth waiting for whatever speech came from him. Kaena was quite glad she had swung by this general direction -- there was certainly some wisdom beyond those violet-shaded eyes, and the one-eyed hybrid would wait for it.

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