03-04-2011, 11:06 PM
He found himself smilingly happily at her little play hop. He jerked unintentionally at first, not realizing she was just goofing. But much to his surprise, it did not anger him or make his temper flare, as it would have with others.
He smiled to himself as she relaxed, leaning on the counter. He found himself taking a few glances at her while he swept. He managed to pass it off as if he was paying attention to her, but rather he was admiring her and looking at her longingly.
Suddenly, as she was talking about her pack, he had a nagging desire to know who the father was of the pups. What pack and what father would leave a pregnant wolf in this condition. His mind became very defensive over her and he wanted to go after any to blame for her current condition. He even found a way to blame Niro, an assumption that she was raped, or the father of the pups died entered his mind and Niro should be helping his sister. His mind filled with assumptions, plots, theories, anger, hate and yet none of this seemed to pierce the radiating beauty that he saw when he looked at Orin.
"Art?" He looked at her and stopped sweeping. The question halted his thoughts, he was not expecting that. It wasn’t a hard question, but his mind was focused elsewhere and this came to him like a surprise. He almost forgot what art was and if he had any talents in the field. Flooding all back into his mind, he was finally able to answer.
“Yes, I suppose I do, though it’s not a traditional type of art. I am a leather crafter.” His eyes shifted down to his shoulder pads with two cross pieces of leather. The leather straps indented slightly into his chest fur, holding the shoulder pads in place on the tops of his shoulder. There was of course the intricate knife in its scabbard on one of the cross pieces. The leather was embossed with some nice swirly designs around the edge. The scabbard though was embossed with more loving care, and it was very obvious. The design was complicated and would have taken a long while to make. The leather used would be undeterminable to untrained eyes, and to most trained eyes. Untrained eyes would most likely just see another piece of weird leather though. A trained eye may question it.
His hand ran across one of the leather straps, lovingly. He looked up to her with a pride filled smile that quickly faded. He cocked his head slightly.
“What is your trade? Do you write?” He made a small wave with his hand around the place, acknowledging all the books.
He smiled to himself as she relaxed, leaning on the counter. He found himself taking a few glances at her while he swept. He managed to pass it off as if he was paying attention to her, but rather he was admiring her and looking at her longingly.
Suddenly, as she was talking about her pack, he had a nagging desire to know who the father was of the pups. What pack and what father would leave a pregnant wolf in this condition. His mind became very defensive over her and he wanted to go after any to blame for her current condition. He even found a way to blame Niro, an assumption that she was raped, or the father of the pups died entered his mind and Niro should be helping his sister. His mind filled with assumptions, plots, theories, anger, hate and yet none of this seemed to pierce the radiating beauty that he saw when he looked at Orin.
"Art?" He looked at her and stopped sweeping. The question halted his thoughts, he was not expecting that. It wasn’t a hard question, but his mind was focused elsewhere and this came to him like a surprise. He almost forgot what art was and if he had any talents in the field. Flooding all back into his mind, he was finally able to answer.
“Yes, I suppose I do, though it’s not a traditional type of art. I am a leather crafter.” His eyes shifted down to his shoulder pads with two cross pieces of leather. The leather straps indented slightly into his chest fur, holding the shoulder pads in place on the tops of his shoulder. There was of course the intricate knife in its scabbard on one of the cross pieces. The leather was embossed with some nice swirly designs around the edge. The scabbard though was embossed with more loving care, and it was very obvious. The design was complicated and would have taken a long while to make. The leather used would be undeterminable to untrained eyes, and to most trained eyes. Untrained eyes would most likely just see another piece of weird leather though. A trained eye may question it.
His hand ran across one of the leather straps, lovingly. He looked up to her with a pride filled smile that quickly faded. He cocked his head slightly.
“What is your trade? Do you write?” He made a small wave with his hand around the place, acknowledging all the books.