Change is the only constant

Noss · 01-29-2011, 03:14 AM

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OVERDUE! T~T

He realized, then, that this female who had the posture of someone who was used to fighting and had battle-hardened eyes might be seeing him as a trespasser. After all, he did have Cour's prey hanging dead in his hand, and he was a) uninitiated to the pack and b) only smelled faintly of the pack to hint that he had express permission to be there. Instead of getting in trouble, the grey warrior looked at the rabbits and to the female, waving his hand from side to side in reassurance. "My name is Noss. Your King gave me permission to stay here." It was more than she had asked, but he'd rather give the information than end up being attacked. He didn't want to put Strel's head on the chopping block for a stupid mistake of the grey male's, much less his own life. Noss was...often oblivious to his own emotions and those of the wolves that surrounded him. Less often this was happening to him for Strel, who Noss could read through the expressivness of his eyes. But this wolfess was like Strel, in a way; he could tell that much. Where Strel was not physically strong, he had a castle wall that guarded his emotions and heart, where there were few chinks in that armor. Even though this female was physically strong and had similar chainmail, it appeared as if eyes were a universal, tell-tale communicator.

Her eyes were sad.

Noss was actually put off by this. In all his life, the one thing he could never handle was crying, whether he reacted by grasping hopelessly for something to do or by rash action (as he had done when Ralla had cried in front of him, Strel, and the white wolf). And although the wolfess didn't look sad, Noss was guarded for the possibility, however unlikely it seemed it would happen. One of the main reasons he had stayed away from most women was because he couldn't handle their weak personalities. His little sister was the exception, and he bemusingly thought that the reason he couldn't handle it in others was because he took up too much time handling her own personality. But more so, this female wolfess in front of him reminded the warrior of his childhood friend, Naka. The wolfess from back in his homeland was strong as well--never cried, never showed weakness as Noss had come to assosciate with females in general--and at one point he even thought that he might fall in love with her. That was impossible now, he knew--and Strel knew, too, even if he rejected it--but Noss still felt that close friendship that made him see bits and pieces in those of strong will. He remembered Strel had, at one point, also reminded him of the sturdy, steadfast wolfess. But no longer. For one reason or another... Noss could no longer compare the two, and he mainly attributed that to his unexpected feelings for the tailor. Concerning the task at hand... At least the female appeared enough in control that he could perhaps as for directions...?

"I, uh..." He cut off, unsure of how to continue the question, returning to his earlier dilemma of pride. Along with that, the female's apparant state of mind made it no easier. "Are you...alright?" Coming from this gruff and stoic man, it must've been odd to hear. Noss might've been cold and aloof, but he wasn't heartless.

Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.

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