in a real death waltz

Razekiel Lykoi · 05-20-2010, 01:32 PM

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She spoke more in that glorious foreign tongue, and as predicted its sounds flowed uselessly through his ears with no comprehension involved. The red-faced boy adopted a strangely pleased look that widened only when she smiled as well. Finally, he had broken through to something, influenced her enough to abandon her wall of a stale-faced indifference, and Razekiel breathed contented relief. Despite his upbringing, Juniper Peace had taught him to find good in all faces he met, learn what brought them happiness, and share in it somehow. It seemed this language of hers, introduced as Hungarian seconds later, may have been a piece in the puzzle. "You must be from worlds away, man; nobody up here speaks that tongue." The coyote was hopelessly intrigued. "Tell me of your homeland, yeah? Must be a groovy place, man, totally chill."

She remained modest—though questionable—at his continuous compliments, but he was not about to complain. Razekiel had gotten her to smile, after all, and what a wonderful one it was! "Your smile is beautiful, love! You must smile more, yeah?" He burst into the most excited of grins, though still he wobbled to and fro on his unsteady knees. She asked a question of him and he did not respond quickly, distracted temporarily by a gust of wind that brushed through the trees. "Just goin' where my legs take me, man, and they led me here! The Great Mother has a wonderful way of working things, don't you think?" He smiled up the sky.

"Besides," his eyes returned to her, "I was sure the Dahlia my clan speaks so terribly of could not have been so terrible at all."

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