03-11-2009, 06:55 PM
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Slaying the Dreamer
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A big grin crossed his features, lighting up his ebony-marked muzzle. "Yes, that's right! My name's Slay, I'm the Head Hunter." He let his black-dipped tail wave a friendly tempo behind him, drawing several paces closer to the polite, apprehensive wolf. He didn't seem shy, perchance, merely painstakingly formal. A little like their third-in-command, Cwmfen. Slay plopped onto his haunches into the snow, still rejecting the formality this situation required. After all the goings-on of late -- the missing puppies, Svara's crazy mother showing up, Haku's illegitimate daughters making tension just by being here, the several fights that had broken out at the borders -- it was a breath of fresh air to merely relax in the cool March weather. It had rained last night, but the snow was not all melted away yet. Spring was trying to make an appearance, but it was still too soon to see the grass yet. The arctic male exhaled pleasantly, letting his pale eyes flutter closed for a moment, before turning back to Rath.
"All right then, tell me a little about yourself, stranger. Where do you hail from? What skills can you offer us?" |
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