08-12-2008, 08:56 PM
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More and more, he kept himself away from the direct centre of the territory. Having only just recently shut Ahren up somewhere, Laurel needed the space to think. Nikita wasn't looking so great and he hadn't seen hide or hair of Zephyr or Asanotohl for a while. Zephyr the most, Asanotohl didn't hang around the territory that often, always off doing something. The thought did cross his mind that perhaps the non-shifting fellow had gone opposite ways from the band already, although if that were the case there was always the new fellow. The tattooist, who's name ended up slipping his mind given every other circumstance.
However, it was the soft clinking sound of beads against one another that really caught his attention amidst his jumbled up thoughts; through the trees he spotted something that was quite out of place. A flash of white, a flash of green a bit too bright against the late summer foliage. It was there that Laurel stopped for a moment, unaware of just how far he had gone from the campsite and just how close he had gotten to their literal border and its untamed sights. However, the flash of black hair of the wandering Poe surprised him the most. He had almost forgotten about his little offer for her to come out and visit.
What timing. “Good thing you're not out hunting in that dress,” he called to her as he came to the trail head where she had come fully into his view. “I heard those beads jingling all the way down the road from here.” And she was dragging something in a bag, he noticed as he got closer and saw it move. Just what in the hell could be in there with such awkward moves? “Cat in the bag?” There was no hello, no how are you, just him pointing out the obvious and being nosy.
More and more, he kept himself away from the direct centre of the territory. Having only just recently shut Ahren up somewhere, Laurel needed the space to think. Nikita wasn't looking so great and he hadn't seen hide or hair of Zephyr or Asanotohl for a while. Zephyr the most, Asanotohl didn't hang around the territory that often, always off doing something. The thought did cross his mind that perhaps the non-shifting fellow had gone opposite ways from the band already, although if that were the case there was always the new fellow. The tattooist, who's name ended up slipping his mind given every other circumstance.
However, it was the soft clinking sound of beads against one another that really caught his attention amidst his jumbled up thoughts; through the trees he spotted something that was quite out of place. A flash of white, a flash of green a bit too bright against the late summer foliage. It was there that Laurel stopped for a moment, unaware of just how far he had gone from the campsite and just how close he had gotten to their literal border and its untamed sights. However, the flash of black hair of the wandering Poe surprised him the most. He had almost forgotten about his little offer for her to come out and visit.
What timing. “Good thing you're not out hunting in that dress,” he called to her as he came to the trail head where she had come fully into his view. “I heard those beads jingling all the way down the road from here.” And she was dragging something in a bag, he noticed as he got closer and saw it move. Just what in the hell could be in there with such awkward moves? “Cat in the bag?” There was no hello, no how are you, just him pointing out the obvious and being nosy.