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wc 732
She caught the twinge of hurt flash through the creature’s golden eyes and felt sorry for a moment that she had caused it. Orin knew it was her startled reaction to the bear that ordered that wounded expression, but until now she honestly had not even known that they would be able to communicate. She knew other animals were not daft, and that they had the ability to speak both in the Luperci’s language and in their own. But not all animals had the capacity to speak to the Luperci, and she did not know what marked the difference.
It only grew worse as another one of Orin’s actions shamed the creature more. Orin despised making someone feel bad, and in just a moment of pure circumstance she had somehow dejected this poor chestnut furred creature. Fret wrought her eyes as she quickly worried about how to fix this. But almost as quickly as the hurt had been dealt, it seemed to abate. After averting her eyes in her mortification the bear looked back into Orin’s face once she spoke. The fear of having hurt someone began to lift from Orin’s eyes, and her tentative nature softened rapidly. She became more relaxed, and now could reflect on the moment…
She was talking to a bear! She was face to face with the grizzly, staring up at the hulking form and into a kind, round face, and they were able to communicate! Her heart tripped with excitement. Bears had been mentioned in a few books she read, but rarely had someone written about their personalities before (except for the book she thought about earlier), one story had not been enough to go off of. But at least something seemed to be accurate in what she had read by the man named Milne, for the creature confirmed that Orin had been spot on with her taste for honey!
“I read it!” She boasted, happy that their conversation so quickly referenced books. “That you like honey, I mean. Or, that bears in general like honey. So I just guessed.”
She grinned, but her right ear twitched when Malachi muttered something under her breath about a wolf. Orin was not quick to catch on, and worry wrought her features again as she thought Malachi was muttering something about her. But Malachi had accepted her peculiar peace offering and propped it on her paws and then introduced herself, so she must not have been too offended. Orin perked up again.
“Pleased to meet you, Malachi!” she chirped. “I’m Orin Takekuro. A writer here in Cercatori D’Arte, though I hope to become a professor as well.” She beamed with pride at the mention of her talents, though he eyebrow soon quirked at the words she did not understand.
Orin glanced over her shoulder at the woodpile she had dropped in her surprise a moment before, studied it a moment, then looked back at Malachi. Would it be proper to accept the help from this exotic stranger? Though she did seem fairly comfortable with the area, and had mentioned her pack’s alphas. She turned back to Malachi. “I would love some help. I was just taking it to my bookstore over there,” she waved her hand, indicating which building was her store. “I’m pretty good at being clumsy. I’m hoping to repair some shelves with it. That’s my next chore for the day – to find someone who can fix shelves!” She rubbed the back of her head and giggled sheepishly before spinning around and moving back to the planks. She began to gather some up and spoke to Malachi casually as she did so.
“So, this is pretty amazing really. I’ve never met someone like you before! I didn’t even know we spoke the same language. I mean, I don’t know much about you, but shouldn’t you be asleep right now? Oh, if you’re around in the spring – will you be around in the spring? – maybe I can find a book on how to harvest honey for you. Or, well, you probably already know how, huh?” She flashed Malachi a grin and held out a few of the boards she had gathered, grateful for the help, and then scooped up the rest in her arms before heading towards her bookstore.
“Oh, one more question,” as if she had not already asked a dozen more. “What is ‘oqoti’? And ‘apoqonmul’?”