I'm sorry this is so scattered all over the place. I haven't RPed in like....a little under a year, it's kind of sad!
By the way, I want your table. -noms it-
Weilund didn't know exactly how long he sat there, whether it was just for a few minutes or several hours, he couldn't be sure. The last few months had given him the chance to become very proficient at tuning everything out. He found he was able to pass chunks of time in a state of semi-awareness and always 'awoke' feeling as though he were suffering from the side effects of aftershock. Maybe he was. In any case, he barely moved while waiting, breaking the spell only to shrug the pack completely off his back. He pushed it aside almost roughly, keeping his gaze elsewhere. Weilund couldn't believe how difficult it was for him to aim his stare away. It seemed determined to return to the seemingly unoffensive object. The items within certainly weren't malicious, he had to concede. The memories that came along with them – those were capable of inflicting pain. A large part of him wanted to toss the whole lot of them right into the ocean but he knew that to do so would hurt him more than keeping them. And painful memories aside, almost every possession was useful: a great variety of tools, medical supplies and many books. All of which were in impeccable condition; Eli always took great care of his belongings. He was constantly cleaning, fixing and sharpening them. Weilund winced at this memory, flinching away from the key word: was. Past tense, all over with.
The massive wolf's thoughts would have continued to spiral painfully if not for a very welcome interruption. Conor's scent alerted Weilund a shortly before he arrived on scene himself, so Weilund was able to properly prepare himself. He automatically bowed his head, lowering to a respectful height and the rest of his body followed suit. He kept his eyes on the ground until the alpha spoke before making eye contact. And even then his gaze was full of respect, slightly apologetic for disturbing the leader: nothing near the glare he had directed to the stupid pack moments before.
Weilund waited a few seconds before replying, trying to organize his thoughts. He wasn't sure if this was Dahlia de Mai and he definitely didn't know whether this stranger would know who Kol or Elliot were. He was desperate for his journey to be over, task completed but at the same time his stomach shifted uneasily as he thought of the message he was here to deliver. It wasn't if he was going to go home without trying, though. With a sharp pang, Weilund realized that he wasn't sure that he wanted to go back to Jasper Valley at all. He struggled for a few more seconds to control this new revelation. The conflict in his eyes would show Conor that his silence wasn't insolence, but Weilund forced himself to speak anyway.
I sure hope you can, sir. My name is Weilund Oriel and I'm looking for a pack called Dahlia de Mai? I'm here to deliver some news to Kol Stormbringer. A pregnant pause, a twist of pain contorting his features for a few seconds. It's about her mate Elliot Oriel, my uh- my brother. Never had six syllables been so painful to speak out loud, but saying his brother's name send a throb of pain through his chest. It didn't matter how many times he spoke it and he was never completely prepared for the repercussions: it felt as if his lungs had been torn out of place, almost always leaving him gasping from the sense of loss. He managed to keep the turmoil inside and felt a hollow sense of accomplishment for the control. Now all he had to do was get through the rest of the conversation. And after that? He had no idea.