OOC: Nice entrance, especially since Slade doesn't quite like puppies. XD
Assuming Valinta is in optime form?

Slade's story continued and went on as Jag explored the town and--oh sweet mother of coyotes, what the heck crashed into him? The effect was greatly exaggerated, as he hadn't been paying much attention to what was going on not far away, so deep in thought as he told his story inwardly, and he staggered to regain his footing.

All of this happened in seconds, and Slade couldn't help but look mindlessly forward for a moment, subconsciously aware of someone talking nearby, wondering what in the world had startled him so badly. When he finally shook his head quickly and turned to the culprit, he saw a black female and a puppy. No surprise there. Slade didn't exactly have the highest opinion of puppies, and whenever he felt the need to rant about them he was going to use this as a prime example.

It took a moment for him to recognize that the mother was Valinta LeStrange. She had saved him in the bush incident a while ago; the last time he had seen her was a quick glance during the snowstorm, when she was still pregnant. He glanced from her to the pup, wondering if this furball was her son. He would never understand why anyone would ever want to be constantly pestered by the giant fleas that were puppies. For the most of it they weren't smart enough to have a decent conversation, couldn't sit still, had a tendency to be whiny and loud, and amused themselves by smashing into strangers.

Slade could have mentally ranted about puppies until the sun came up in April, but he forced himself to drag his thoughts back to the situation, he spoke. "Hello, Valinta," His voice was casual enough, but his flattened ears, rigid stance and tail, and raised head clearly said otherwise. "This is your son?" He willed himself not to spit out the word or glare at the pup.

OOC: I don't mind at all. Slade will get used to it.
Sorry for the little delay there; was eating supper.<.

Slade was surprised to hear that the puppy - Gunnar - was an orphan, but he didn't push the subject. He didn't really care about personal matters like why-on-earth-someone-would-want-to-have-puppies unless they directly concerned him, anyhow. He was somewhat confused at Gunnar's sudden 'mood swing' and wasn't used to hearing a puppy calling their parents 'Mother'. It was too formal coming from someone that young. Slade relaxed a bit; could it be that Gunnar was one of those rare puppies that actually had common sense? He had to admit that he might have been a bit - okay, very - naïve when he was younger, but that ship had sailed. Now he looked at Gunnar wish a sudden curiosity.

Remembering that Valinta had apologized, he turned his attention back to her. "All's fine with me so long as it doesn't happen again." He also recalled her saying something about 'whatever it is you're doing' and decided he might as well explain. "It just startled me. Was making up a story and all...." It was at this point that most storytellers offered to tell or explain their story. Slade, feeling the way he did about puppies and all, chose to stop his talk there. If Valinta or Gunnar were interested, they could ask him to explain, and even after that he would only do so if the hairball was on his best behavior.

It was partly because of the puppy, but there was another factor as to why Slade was reluctant to offer to tell his story: he had never really shared what went on in his imagination. The only one he had ever told his stories to in his lifetime was his mother, and even then she had smiled, nodded, told him he was a good storyteller but never really paid close attention to what he was saying. As he turned back to Gunnar, he wondered how he would feel telling his story to someone who might just listen.