Something Old, Something New

Skye Collins · 06-05-2011, 06:36 PM

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Big Grin wc: 327

Skye's ears perked a bit at the mention of a story; she dipped them back again, a bit embarrassed to have such a childish instinct take over. The truth was, however, that Skye wasn't that old, and the prospect of a tale to be told excited her more than it would excite someone with more experience in life or less interest in stories. She listened intently, however, as the man relayed his own story of the poppy flowers to Skye.

The matter-of-fact way that Giron told his story was strange to Skye, but she nonetheless felt for the basset hound. She had never lost a friend in such a manner, nor did she wish to - she did remember, however, reading about the sleeping powers of the opium poppy plant in her book about the various flowers and plants and herbs around Nova Scotia.

She did recall, however, the murderer Argul, and how he had ravaged the area of Cercatori d'Arte before Shawchert chased him off. It had been horrible to watch pups dying and not knowing who was it that had done and were doing such things, nor why. When they did catch him, it was a relief - but Giron hadn't caught the killer; the killer had caught his friend.

"I'm sorry to hear that - it sounds horrible," she said quietly. She could imagine that the grief he had felt was magnified by the fact that people had forgotten about his friend - with Orin, it had been similar; people accused Shawchert of not caring, and although they never accused the same of Skye, they hadn't paid much mind to her either. Recalling the disasters that had lead to Shawchert leaving and her becoming the sole leader of Cercatori d'Arte, she spoke to the dog. "My friend, Orin, was chased out a similar way; a mysterious killer murdered her pup, and chased her out. We didn't find out who it was until nearly a month later," she said mournfully.

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