12-01-2009, 06:03 PM
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Word Count: 369
He was in neutral territory, and scents of others came and went; Dawali didn't pay them much attention. It wasn't that seldom that he traveled a little outside of the village to find things he needed or to explore something on his own. Most of the time it was not a good day to be alone, but today it was. No bitter thoughts of past failures, and no twisted images of Ember turning her back on their friendship. The scents of strangers lingered in his nose, for as every normal wolf he had a keen nose, and he didn't pay them attention. Their presence was, in a way, a spice to his experience of these unclaimed lands, the lands of the traveller and the loner. But, of course, he had noticed how the male had come closer and closer to where he was. He was not threatened: he was close enough to AniWaya, and his legs were long and well-trained. He could make the run home. After all, he had made the run home from Halifax, wounded. But he didn't like to think about that.
When the male arrived and greeted him, Dawali merely looked up and gave him a short nod. Not an impolite gesture, but just a signal as if to say "Hi, I see you. Can I help you?". After all, Dawali was minding his own business, so why shouldn't this other person do so too? The words that exited the other male's mouth, however, seemed to be fully aware of this, and Dawali softened up. Giving a small smile, he explained just as he spotted and bent down to pick up another stone suitable for an arrowhead. "I'm collecting stones for making my arrows." Opening his palm, he revealed a jagged stone shaped vaguely as the number eight. "This one is easily made into a sharp and fatal arrowhead.", he explained, bending his other hand behind his back into the quiver, finding one of the to-be arrows and placing it over the stone so the male could see what he meant. "Name's Dawali. Who're you?", he asked bluntly. Slowly, he was growing back into the man he used to be; a person of fewer words.
He was in neutral territory, and scents of others came and went; Dawali didn't pay them much attention. It wasn't that seldom that he traveled a little outside of the village to find things he needed or to explore something on his own. Most of the time it was not a good day to be alone, but today it was. No bitter thoughts of past failures, and no twisted images of Ember turning her back on their friendship. The scents of strangers lingered in his nose, for as every normal wolf he had a keen nose, and he didn't pay them attention. Their presence was, in a way, a spice to his experience of these unclaimed lands, the lands of the traveller and the loner. But, of course, he had noticed how the male had come closer and closer to where he was. He was not threatened: he was close enough to AniWaya, and his legs were long and well-trained. He could make the run home. After all, he had made the run home from Halifax, wounded. But he didn't like to think about that.
When the male arrived and greeted him, Dawali merely looked up and gave him a short nod. Not an impolite gesture, but just a signal as if to say "Hi, I see you. Can I help you?". After all, Dawali was minding his own business, so why shouldn't this other person do so too? The words that exited the other male's mouth, however, seemed to be fully aware of this, and Dawali softened up. Giving a small smile, he explained just as he spotted and bent down to pick up another stone suitable for an arrowhead. "I'm collecting stones for making my arrows." Opening his palm, he revealed a jagged stone shaped vaguely as the number eight. "This one is easily made into a sharp and fatal arrowhead.", he explained, bending his other hand behind his back into the quiver, finding one of the to-be arrows and placing it over the stone so the male could see what he meant. "Name's Dawali. Who're you?", he asked bluntly. Slowly, he was growing back into the man he used to be; a person of fewer words.