It was…interesting, to say the least. xD Fun for the first day, not fun once it was cold and night…and it lasted for five days.
Her words were rough and unpolished; coarse, even. Shandom had never heard any wolf speak quite like it, with such ease and disregard for the linguistic choices. He had been raised in such a proper place, in such a high position: Shandom had to wonder if, perhaps, the old traditions were lost in this new land. Such a thought gave him room to despair: he hated the idea that wolves were possibly losing their collective species identity. Caprica mentioned that she learned to wave from a human book: the alabaster male internally shied from the idea, though he did not begrudge her the decision. From what he’d seen, some wolves enjoyed the humanized lifestyle. Shandom doubted he would ever attain that level of comfort in his Optime form. “I cannot imagine using my paws to create something like that,” Shandom mentioned. His tones were not self-deprecating, or in any way ashamed. He simply stated fact. “I am not so comfortable with the idea of taking human inventions as many of the other wolves around here. I am merely a wolf; I do not aspire to much more.”
As he spoke the words, Shandom did feel a pang of regret. “I am sorry, Miss Caprica. I do not mean to insult your culture and ways; they are merely unfamiliar to me, and sometimes disconcerting.” He gave her a reassuring smile, as if to promise that he did not think any less of her, and hoped she would forgive him for his borderline unfriendly reaction to her mention of human books. When she told him about Anathema, Shandom could hear the passion in her voice; it made him smile. “The way you speak of it, it must be so wonderful. What is it like there? Do you have much family?” He was genuinely interested, and his easy smile and relaxed stance reflected that attitude. Shandom lowered himself to his haunches, tail curled easily around him.
When she asked about whether Cours des Miracles had been worth the journey, Shandom almost had to bark a laugh. It wasn’t that he had anything against Cours des Miracles – he quite liked it there, if he were being honest – it was simply that no pack, no journey was actually worth everything he had been through. Still, he found a way to keep his tone light and easy. This female had no need to know of his history. “Cours des Miracles is pleasant. I arrived at their borders when the pack was at the twilight of war, so I do wish I came at a better time. Still, the wolves are friendly, and they mean me no harm. I am grateful for their safe harbor.” The words felt strange in his mouth; it was odd for him to speak about a pack that he called his own that was not Etienne. He felt, for some reason, compelled to tell her this. “I must admit, however, it is entirely different from my home. There, no wolves walked on two legs, and we were very traditional. It was not until I left their borders that I contracted this virus. Have you been this way your entire life?”
