08-25-2009, 11:07 PM
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@&#&$One ear twitched inexplicably and his dark nose began to wriggle as he tested the air around him. Over the scent of the waterlogged trespasser came a fresher, livelier scent... it was one he did not recognise at all, not even from his patrols, but the scents of two others--Gabriel and especially Kaena--clung to him like light perfume. Anselm's head turned slowly as he regarded the general direction it had come from, though he could not see the young coyote shrouded in the cover of darkness and vegetation. His red eyes stared intensely for a few moments, but he couldn't discern much. His nose told him the most--male, coyote.
@&#&$Mentally shrugging, he simply turned back to the matter at hand. Anselm rarely approached others directly, the primary exception being when he wanted something: information and sex were likely candidates. Then again, in the case of wolves like Warren or Zee, he may approach to demand something else entirely... that they depart immediately. In the case of a male, he certainly wasn't interested in sex; that the coyote carried his family's scent suggested that he belonged here, and needn't be chased away; as he was a stranger, he didn't likely have any dire or extremely juicy information for him at this odd time. The Caelum's posture was otherwise neutral, however, not necessarily unapproachable--Anselm honestly preferred to know most members of the clan on a personal basis (assuming they weren't complete nut jobs) and if the guy was new, maybe he had some question or something not explained during his acceptance. He just wasn't about to play Marco Polo or hide and go seek, clearly.
@&#&$The golden male strode over to the body of the hapless victim and grabbed it roughly by a hind leg. Still holding the snout loosely in his right hand, he gave a rough yank with the other to break the static friction that pleaded the deceased wolf's case to be put to rest--weren't things already bad enough; could he not just lay here? The creature equilibrated in a position mostly on its back, sliding over the wet leaves, bumpy rocks, pointed sticks, and squishy mud rather inelegantly--no peace for this lost soul, it seemed. Anselm began to meander toward the borders to both dispose of the corpse and put the head on display. His ears swung about constantly, as he was ever-conscious of the stranger that lurked nearby...
@&#&$One ear twitched inexplicably and his dark nose began to wriggle as he tested the air around him. Over the scent of the waterlogged trespasser came a fresher, livelier scent... it was one he did not recognise at all, not even from his patrols, but the scents of two others--Gabriel and especially Kaena--clung to him like light perfume. Anselm's head turned slowly as he regarded the general direction it had come from, though he could not see the young coyote shrouded in the cover of darkness and vegetation. His red eyes stared intensely for a few moments, but he couldn't discern much. His nose told him the most--male, coyote.
@&#&$Mentally shrugging, he simply turned back to the matter at hand. Anselm rarely approached others directly, the primary exception being when he wanted something: information and sex were likely candidates. Then again, in the case of wolves like Warren or Zee, he may approach to demand something else entirely... that they depart immediately. In the case of a male, he certainly wasn't interested in sex; that the coyote carried his family's scent suggested that he belonged here, and needn't be chased away; as he was a stranger, he didn't likely have any dire or extremely juicy information for him at this odd time. The Caelum's posture was otherwise neutral, however, not necessarily unapproachable--Anselm honestly preferred to know most members of the clan on a personal basis (assuming they weren't complete nut jobs) and if the guy was new, maybe he had some question or something not explained during his acceptance. He just wasn't about to play Marco Polo or hide and go seek, clearly.
@&#&$The golden male strode over to the body of the hapless victim and grabbed it roughly by a hind leg. Still holding the snout loosely in his right hand, he gave a rough yank with the other to break the static friction that pleaded the deceased wolf's case to be put to rest--weren't things already bad enough; could he not just lay here? The creature equilibrated in a position mostly on its back, sliding over the wet leaves, bumpy rocks, pointed sticks, and squishy mud rather inelegantly--no peace for this lost soul, it seemed. Anselm began to meander toward the borders to both dispose of the corpse and put the head on display. His ears swung about constantly, as he was ever-conscious of the stranger that lurked nearby...