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----------faster, faster.. the lights are turnin' red
 Wow, really? she wondered aloud, trying to imagine what such a place might be like. Verdant year round, she guessed... no winter famines... it sounded like paradise! Her father's voice sounded in her head at that moment and she reminded herself that the grass always seemed greener on the other side and it was best to simply be content with what she had. Still, it would be nice to do without that time of year when she stuck out like a sore thumb--hunting was difficult for a black wolf on a white backdrop, and stealth wasn't much of option. It was more about brute force and long, exhausting chases (as Savina would know!).
A grin danced across her face at the mention of cars. Well, if I find one around here and can get it into working condition, I'll take you out for a ride! she laughed, although she was quite serious about it. She'd always been jealous of her uncle's impressive collection (three working cars, that is) and she always sort of wanted one for herself. When she returned back home after her vacation was over, maybe she'd have something to show him! Yeah; that would be cool. She found herself distracted and wondering what kind she would want--unfortunately, most of the ones she found to be pretty were somewhat ineffective on the deteriorated roadways. Hmm. Oh, sure! she remarked in regard to the race, snapping back to the present. Some day when it's nicer out, perhaps, she added. It wasn't worth wasting energy on such things right then when food was so scarce, obviously.
Well, 'is name is Anselm. Anselm de le Poer. He apparently left to get his life sorted out, and in the process sort of scrambled up mine, she admitted, a hint of resentment in her tone. Things had been going just swimmingly until he'd shown up, and now she felt like she was constantly fighting off some insidious form of mental turmoil. She wasn't even sure what she wanted... other than Gale to have told her sooner, maybe. This probably wouldn't matter as much then if she'd adjusted to the idea up front. Maybe what got to her most wasn't Anselm's negligence so much as Gale's dishonesty? Still, she reminded herself, he probably had the best intentions at heart--it wasn't like she could really blame him. How mad could she possibly get at the kind wolf who'd given her a good home and taken her in despite not being his own? Obviously she had no control over the situation, either, so it seemed like a waste of time to get angry at herself, although she felt herself slipping up on occasion. It was all quite a mess in her mind.  |
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