[P] All I Can Do Is Write About It
Dante Centri
#1
OOC: Sunflower Sunset around mid afternoon


Bear had been making a lot of friends and acquaintances lately. This place seemed so lovely and she was beginning to feel like she had come to the right place. She met a coyote who was very sweet and a bit like her. The pup was beginning to think she should go find her again...maybe it would be good to stay with her for awhile...but Bear was scared to bother about that. What if she didn't want a pup tagging along with her? Besides she was a little hungry again. She needed to try and fish some more.

Then there was that Max guy...he had offered her a home..a pack. Bear was afraid to meet a lot of canines...it scared her. She let out a large sigh. This was a lot to process...not to mention so many paths to decide where to go...

All this thought had the youth's head hurting and she shook her body trying to rid her of all this burden. She didn't have time for all this thought, there was playing to be had! She was free after all!

Coming to a large field she saw the most beautiful sight! It was like the ocean she saw but instead of water it was an ocean of large sun colored flowers! Her red and her blue eye shined with excitement and pure joy! She burst with giggles and flew forward to dive into the sea of flowers. She leaped forward and into the air, her head bopping in and out of sight as she leaped through the flowers giggling. Oh, what fun!


Avatar by: Nat Signature by: Me
#2
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+524



Dante Centri

The perfect soldier
/////////////////////////////////////////////

OOC: Sorry this took so long! Very busy week!

/////////////////////////////////////////////


It was undeniably gorgeous outside. Sun beams radiated the Earth below, warming Dante despite a cool breeze blowing by. The large Doberman had left his preferred hotel of choice to take a short stroll away from the village in order to skin several spring hares. He set out towards a river, or meant to, anyways. Dante could find a way to get lost down a straight line, and not surprisingly, managed to get turned around on the short trip. He wasn’t upset though; stumbling into the meadow was a pleasant mistake, and, he decided, any queasy pack mates would just have to put up with the sight of meat being cleaned. Sunflowers reached far into the air, swaying to and fro. Anything was prettier from above, so, wanting to get the best of the experience, Dante made his way up into the canopy of an autumn maple on the edge of the meadow after tying up the few rabbits he had caught onto a low hanging branch. He could manage to squeeze his way up the small tree, and his legs dangled awkwardly off of the branches.

He had sat there in awe for at least ten minutes or so, watching the ocean of bright yellow flowers ripple with each gust of wind, whenever another dog came into view. Dante quickly sat up, at attention, but soon relaxed back into his former reclined position after coming to the realisation that the pup wasn’t any sort of danger. She wasn’t from any sort of enemy pack he knew of, and besides, she was small and young. The girl wasn’t an infant by any means, but Bear was certainly the youngest canine Dante had seen. After all, he had spent his entire life with soldiers who were three, at the youngest. Still, her youth fascinated Dante, but also made him slightly worried. The pup didn’t distinctly carry the smell of any pack, which was probably for the better, as Dante wasn’t entirely sure of his pack’s relations with others, but he didn’t like the idea of such a young girl fending for herself.

Even from a distance, Dante could see that her expression was serious and contemplating. Walking slowly at first, the sombre expression of the youth immediately brightened whenever she saw a massive sea of flowers before her. She returned to the state of a puppy, yipping gaily and frolicking through the blossoms, much to Dante’s curiosity.

It wasn’t as though the concept of goofing off was entirely alien to Dante- he’d seen the men in his old village play cards plenty, and had even joined in a few times. That said, while he enjoyed playing games and not taking himself seriously, Dante had partaken in games for entirely social and even political reasons. The premise of playing around while not in the company of others was incomprehensible to the large dog.

He didn’t say anything; Dante just sat there, curiously watching her romp through the flowers from a distance. While her smile would have been contagious to the average dog, Dante was far too solemn of a sort to allow his amusement to show.


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#3
The breeze shot through her bringing her chills with each leap into the air! She was so consumed with this she forgot about her burdens, her paws feeling more like wings as she ran and leaped. She even began to wonder if she could bounce around like a deer! Her paws attempted to mimic hooves as she pranced and leaped. This act made her giggle and she laughed and giggled a herself, even looking down at her paws amusingly. This was so much fun! She had forgotten how much fun it was to be a puppy! Suddenly her paw hit a rock and a loud yelp escaped her and she fell within the sea of flowers. Her face hitting down on the dirt painting her white coat brown, and that was cause for another whimper. Her mind didn't go to herself but the pouch around her neck. She sighed with relieve when she saw it was still intact at her side.

Laying she looked at her paw whining softly to herself as she saw no damage but one of her nails split up the middle painfully. Her round (mostly healed) ears went back as she then let instincts take her, licking her paw as it began to be bloodstained due to their downy fur that was snow white.


Her mismatched eyes looked up and around as she thought of getting up, however, if she was going to be injured the cover of tall flowers was perfect....


Avatar by: Nat Signature by: Me
#4
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+493



Dante Centri

The perfect soldier
/////////////////////////////////////////////

OOC:

/////////////////////////////////////////////


A yelp pierced the peaceful silence and brought Dante out from his lulled state. In no time at all, the young dog had gone from prancing through the flowers to tumbling through them. She had disappeared underneath the bramble, and her soft whimpers suggested that she was hurt but not badly so. Dante let out a soft, exasperated sigh, dropping lazily down from the tree branches with a loud harrumph. While he would have far preferred to not talk to a stranger- a playful puppy, no less- Dante felt morally obligated to help out. Of course his brand of help was bound to be awkward should she put him in any sort of social situation that the response hadn’t been drilled into him. In one paw, he gathered up his recently refilled flask, brimming with icy river water, which Dante expected would be gone in a moment. In order to announce his presence, he made no effort to be quiet nearing Bear, and the loud crunching of leaves and mulch could be heard from underneath his mighty paws. He parted the sea of blossoms with his arms, searching out the small indent that would suggest the would-be hiding place of Bear.

Parli Italiano?” Dante asked, head breaching through the wall of sunflowers and catching sight of her, “ Or do you speak English, Passeretta?

Her young age made him forget the rigorous amount of training he’d gone through in the name of proper ettiquiette, so he momentarily slipped up, ardorning her with a nickname. While he would have easily towered over bear in his lupus or secui form, Dante was a giant in his optime form. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t a puppy even though her small stature may have been decieving. Truthfully, Bear was only a bit on the short side, but to Dante, who was one of the shortest in his family despite being 34 inches at the shoulders in lupus form, she was tiny. By all definitions of the word, Dante looked scary, especially due to his stern, never changing expression, but to make up for the lack of facial compassion, his voice was soft and genuinely concerned.

Once within a metre or so of her, he knealt down with a knee barely touching the ground in order to level himself more with the girl, making sure to move slowly in order to not appear threatening. From up close, the extent of her injuries were clear; a nail split down the middle gushed with fresh blood. While Dante was plenty used to the sight of blood and injuries given his former and current occupations, he did have to admit that the gash certainly didn’t look pleasant.

Dante held out his spare paw, offering out his hand in the expectation that she’d give him hers in return. If she did, Dante would pour the cool water from his flask onto it in order to wash the blood away.




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#5
She was jolted from her licking as she heard the leaves and the flowers rustle about and this made her stand, her injured paw tucked close to her. She backed up as her mind scrambled, and her ears flattened to her body while her head lowered. She couldn't make a break for it! Not in time, and not fast enough at least. Her fur raised high and her lips drew back. If she were going to make a stand she'd be silent, much against her instincts, she didn't growl or make a single noise. She stood ready to snap like a pit viper. But as all her muscles tensed ready to snap, the noises slowed, and a voice broke through the silence. He was right there, within a foot or so of her, and her eyes stared up with the intensity of a feral wild animal ready to kill to save its life. Her ears perked the moment she processed what he had said. He spoke in the language the Gypsies mainly used. Was he a gypsy?

Her fur relaxed and her lips unwrinkled, but her eyes watched him dis-trustingly as she responded, "Certi.." She replied, then followed up with, "..I'm better with english.."

The male knelt and she stepped back again, but soon sat as she saw him looking to her paw. He seemed concerned, but was hardened. In a way, he reminded her of her. His behavior was sort of unnerving, yet she understood what he was doing. He held out his hand. Already he so big, but the moment she put her paw into his she realized just how small she was to him. She was 4 months from being around a full year and she was sure he was full grown. She wondered if she'd grow more. She almost didn't like being so small, so many others were larger, taller, stronger, and all could hurt her.

She whimpered, but not out of pain, out of nervousness as he opened a flask and then poured the water onto her blood soaked paw. The red slowly rinsing away into a faint pink look. Her ears were pressed so close to her they were nearly nonexistent...hell they were already small from disfigurement. She looked up to his eyes with her own mismatched ones. "...are you a doctor?" She remembered the doctor with the gypsies. He was the one who took away her charred ears and tail. He helped her get better. The only male she ever felt comfortable with. It was moments of thought like that that made her wonder what she was thinking when she left them. The Gypsies were family, the only family she'd ever had since her mother...she was sure she'd never find a family...


Avatar by: Nat Signature by: Me
#6
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+589



Dante Centri

The perfect soldier
/////////////////////////////////////////////

OOC:

/////////////////////////////////////////////



With her lips curled back and body tense, she resembled the cornered animal that she actually was. Either Dante didn’t mind her aggression, or, more likely, he simply didn’t care. For whatever reason, she calmed within seconds of him speaking, still glaring with so much pent up anger that would have been hard for the average wolf to ignore. For whatever reason, his words seemed to bring out some degree of recognition in her.

"Certi...I'm better with english.."

Dante honestly hadn’t expected to be met with Italian. Perhaps this land was more similar to his cultural heritage than he realised. Why she would want to speak English despite being able to speak Italian was beyond the native speaker, but he would happily abide by her wishes. The small wolf uneasily watched as he groped for his flask and offered out a hand. Still phased from his sudden intrusion, she put her paw in his with hesitance and whimpered softly, from what he assumed, falsely, to be discomfort from the cool water. The red washed out from her paws, staining the flowers under their hands.

From up close, Dante could see that she lacked the ears or tail that the average canine bore, which he found particularly odd, seeing as she wasn’t a dog. His own ears, which would have naturally draped over his brow, had been cropped to stand up straight and his tail had been docked to an awkward length. In his former pack, docking and cropping was a sign of nobility. After all, a commoner couldn’t afford the herbs or rest needed to care for a pup post amputation, especially since cauterising the cropped ears and docked tails was taboo. Dante hated the tradition with a passion, but to his dismay, he couldn’t separate the concept from nobility or wealth in his mind. Somehow though, Dante could just tell that the girl before him hadn’t grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth; her paw was worn and callused in the way that could only be earned by hard work and her expression was tired beyond her years. Dante couldn’t help but wonder the circumstances that had led to the loss of the pup’s ears, but knew better than to ask such a potentially personal question. Still, he couldn’t keep himself from throwing the occasional curious glance at her nearly non-existent ears and tail. To him, the loss of a tail and ears, two vital indicators of emotion in the canine world, was some sort of strange commonplace between the two.

She gazed up at him with those strange eyes of hers and spoke, interrupting his thoughts with a feeble voice,
"...are you a doctor?"

A… doctor? Dante knew what it meant of course, but the assertion that he would be a man of such power was startling and pretty flattering to say the least. He was simply a humble hunter, and the concept of being such an important figure was strange and seemed like an almost romantic thought.

“N-no,” He stammered, not sure what to say and gestured to the weapons on his arm, “I hunt. But Emilio…”

Dante trailed off, not sure what to say. He was about to mention Emilio, the young man who was the physician in his former village before remembering his circumstances, of how his whole pack had gone away and now, he didn’t even know who was the doctor in his village or if there even was one. His lips turned up slightly in a bittersweet smile.

“Ah, nevermind.”




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#7
She shifted her body feeling the anxiety of being so close to another canine, let alone a male. It honestly scared her, but she had had to remind herself that he was helping her. It was odd to be have seen and met so many kind canines. Maybe it was just where she had lived that had so many mean and downright evil males. The dog answered her question and she was almost disappointed when he said no and gestured to his weapons. Her ears flattened more for a second and her brows lowered, "Weapons don't mean anything. A lot of canines have weapons...all the gypsies I had lived with had weapons..and they did a a variety of things." She wanted to be like the gypsies. They were so talented and smart and kind...they were great, and it was the best memory of her life.

The thought made her head drop down. She missed the feeling of family with them. They were the best thing to have happened to her and she felt she had to go...why? Because closeness and feelings scared her? She let out a heavy sigh. She looked to her paw for a second to see what he was going to do next as it was still bleeding and the pain was a little uncomfortable. To try and get her mind off the pain she looked back up to him. She wondered how old he was, and why his ears looked a little odd. Was that how he was born? They didn't seem scarred like her ears and tail, but there was a small bit of detail she noticed. The fur gave it away. He cut them.

"Were your ears damaged? Is that why they are cut like that?" She hadn't thought of questions as personal. She was never really taught etiquette or anything of that nature, and let alone she hadn't thought of the possibility of herself being questioned. Bear was like a child hidden under a rock all her life...that was until nearly four months ago..


Avatar by: Nat Signature by: Me
#8
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+639



Dante Centri

The perfect soldier
/////////////////////////////////////////////

OOC:

/////////////////////////////////////////////



"Weapons don't mean anything. A lot of canines have weapons...all the gypsies I had lived with had weapons..and they did a a variety of things."

"Gypsies?" He murmured softly to himself. The words left a strange taste in his mouth. Depending on who he asked, the opinion on gypsies was varied, but with each person, it was always extreme. Gypsies were either met with admiration or scorn. Dante on the other hand, had never seen a gypsy, and as such, had no real opinion on them. Hearing fantastical descriptions of travelling vagabonds had made him curious to say the least. He thought to ask about the gypsies she had known, but as usual, the words were held in his mouth due to his reserved nature.

"Were your ears damaged? Is that why they are cut like that?"

His free hand traced the outline of his ears as he considered how to respond to her bold questioning. No matter how much he had to say, the girl before him was still a stranger and he treated her as such. Hell, Dante even treated friends like strangers, keeping his responses curt and unemotional.

My parents cut them off after I was born,” he replied, in a matter-of-fact manner, as though it were completely normal, “My tail too.”

He gave a small wag of his stumpy tail for emphasis. While Dante’s ears had been cut very cleanly, the same could not be said for his tail. It was cut at an awkward length, noticeably lacking in length but still too long to be called a proper bobtail. Even though he was only a new born at the time of the incident, the trauma managed to stick in his mind like honey on a hot day. Of all the possible things to remember about Italy it had to be a dreadful amputation. He could distinctly remember the horrific, burning sensation as his ears were taken from him, and he had, in agony, squirmed from the oncoming liston knife aimed at his tail. As a result, it had been butchered off at an angle. For reasons Dante couldn’t properly say, his tail wasn’t corrected at all and had simply been left crooked and mangled. Even in his adulthood, the fur grew off of it strangely.

When the girl looked up at him, Dante’s invariable reaction was to avert his gaze. Avoiding eye contact was a leftover habit from months of trying to look submissive to his higher ups. His eyes landed on her hand, reminding him that his duty to help her wasn’t over yet; the wound was still open and consequently, oozing blood. The botany that Dante was forced to study as a child hadn’t served him until that point, so he was forced to dig through the depths of his mind to remember any appropriate herbs to stop bleeding or reduce infection. Luckily for the both of them, they were in the middle of a meadow, literally surrounded by a variety of plants. His eyes scanned around him for a while before they spotted an excellent candidate to be used: plantain. Less than an arm’s length away, dozens of the scraggly weeds reached out from among rocky patches in the ground, their broad, wavy leaves practically begging to be plucked.

Dante knew the form of plantains like the back of his hand. After all, Fabian had loved the bitter leaves, and Dante spent many nights foraging for the abundant food source. He immediately plucked a few from the ground, chewing them into a paste before spitting it back out, adding a bit more water and putting it on her wound. Sure it might have been gross for both parties, but few could argue its effectiveness. Plantain leaves were practically made for healing cuts; they were an excellent natural antibiotic, astringent and anti-inflammatory.



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