Stalking 101

[Emwe Soul]

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Word count: 348 ........ ........ He composed himself: he knew it wasn't good to stare. He liked being well-behaved, because everyone seemed to appreciate it. Living in a world where everything was good (except the time when it wasn't so good but they were small and fleeting), it was logical for him to strive to always be good. He was simply oblivious to the real world, and how such things are not, and cannot be black and white. His hopes and this imaginary world was what kept him running, and that was what made him stretch his form now, from the little tense ball of a boy to the trying-to-be more relaxed young male. He should try to be brave, because bravery was a good thing. He looked at the strange female and swallowed while she spoke, replying with a feeble and uncertain voice. Yeah... maybe, ........ As soon as she voiced her preference for the day, his form relaxed better, and his ears and tail moved suddenly, in a perky and happy way. Yeah I do too! It's not as dark as the night. Stating the obvious: Emwe was an expert. He didn't really have that much more to say about that, though, and simply looked at the female now, mood lifted and slowly forgetting about the darkness. His eyes were more adjusted to looking at her now, and even though her furs were really good for hiding when it was dark, he could see her better now. She still looked scarred and kind of scary, but her eyes weren't scary, not really. They were nice, like most people's eyes. His line of thought on that subject was broken when she spoke again, and now Emwe was feeling much better. My name is Emwe! Pausing, he glanced to the ground before he remembered that there was some sort of polite sentence that usually came after what he had just said. Eyes changed visibly when he remembered what it was, and his gaze was lifted abruptly to look at the femme, while he exclaimed the conventional phrase, voice laden with joy. What's your name?

Table by Sace/Hemming. Thanks! [/html]