07-31-2008, 06:17 PM
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OOC: Um....can we now prove I don't do roleplay?
Mr Varg? This was the first time in a very long while that he'd been called that. A smile broke on his face and he approached her, noting that she seemed to hold herself back. Surely he was no threat, yes, he had a few scars to show now, but why should he scare her so? She seemed to shy away from him and he gave her another small smile, his tail wagging slightly. 'Please, I am Lubomir. Mr Varg makes me feel really old. And what is your name, my lady of purest white?' He inched closer, trying to see what she had been reading. It seemed a note of some sort. 'I am, yes. I am able to read and write quite well and it's no empty bragging. I was a Bard for my pack and the only one who could do a good job, so I taught others. Do you write, then?'
It had been writing which had led him to meet Mew. He wrote poetry, simply because it expressed his thoughts more eloquently than prose ever had. He thought of sharing that with this female, she seemed young and eager. It brought another smile to his face. He thought, for one brief moment, that she was making him more content than he had been in a very very long time. He was happy at the thought of being able to show someone else how learning bettered the individual. 'I could show you the books we keep here. And if you wish to put thoughts to paper, we have that too. Welcome to Shadowed Sun, milady.' One more smile. More tail wagging. And a sense of joy, that maybe for once he was doing something truly good.
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Mr Varg? This was the first time in a very long while that he'd been called that. A smile broke on his face and he approached her, noting that she seemed to hold herself back. Surely he was no threat, yes, he had a few scars to show now, but why should he scare her so? She seemed to shy away from him and he gave her another small smile, his tail wagging slightly. 'Please, I am Lubomir. Mr Varg makes me feel really old. And what is your name, my lady of purest white?' He inched closer, trying to see what she had been reading. It seemed a note of some sort. 'I am, yes. I am able to read and write quite well and it's no empty bragging. I was a Bard for my pack and the only one who could do a good job, so I taught others. Do you write, then?'
It had been writing which had led him to meet Mew. He wrote poetry, simply because it expressed his thoughts more eloquently than prose ever had. He thought of sharing that with this female, she seemed young and eager. It brought another smile to his face. He thought, for one brief moment, that she was making him more content than he had been in a very very long time. He was happy at the thought of being able to show someone else how learning bettered the individual. 'I could show you the books we keep here. And if you wish to put thoughts to paper, we have that too. Welcome to Shadowed Sun, milady.' One more smile. More tail wagging. And a sense of joy, that maybe for once he was doing something truly good.