WC 417
Amber tinted eyes rounded as Alaine talked, and the little white wolf found herself instantly enamored with the woman. She wove together such incredible words, pleasant words like ‘midnight creepers’ and ‘silver-beet’ and things that sounded like they were right out of a fairytale. To top it off, it was accented with a perfectly smooth cadence and without a doubt on her mind. Orin was suddenly in awe of the Court’s resident apothecary; a sensation that was only heightened when Alaine mentioned her rank and duty to the pack.
Yet when Alaine denied the magical potency of the Rosa Gallica, she could not sustain her disappointment as her ears tipped back and her face filled with a funny sort of distress. She quickly consoled herself, quietly thinking about Alaine’s promise of the flower’s beauty and the things it could do. “Well, I can’t wait to see it in bloom, then! Its versatility makes it sound like it’s perfect for your profession.”
Suddenly she turned her eyes back to Alaine and a look of sneaking suspicion crossed her face. It was almost mischievous, if it had not been padded by her youthful grin. “Wait a second. . . an apothecary. . ? Isn’t that who people go to to get poisons?” When Alaine first stated her skill, Orin’s mind connected it with healing, but upon second thought she remembered a plethora of stories in which an important character, a distressed vixen, or a dastardly villain, obtained fatal toxins from the apothecary in order to execute their misdeed, or cunning trickery.
Still, despite the portrayal of the apothecary in so many stories (and namely plays), the position itself had rarely been described as wrongdoing; it was merely the other characters who misused the apothecary’s talents.
Somehow she found it hard to believe that the prepossessing woman beside her was wicked, and the thread of her thought reflected in her eyes as well as actions when she did not reel away from her packmate in horror. She put a hand to her chin, seriously considering Alaine’s offer, but unable to come up with any needs at the moment. “Hmm. . . there’s nothing I can think of, unless you can whip up something to make my brother whine less.” She winked playfully, a whimsical expression coming over her features as she considered more thoroughly what Alaine does. “Your profession is so intriguing though! Do you maintain these flowers, then?” It was obvious she was biting back a further, exhilarated interrogation.
<style type="text/css">
.orin-a01 b{font-weight:bold; color:#293412; letter-spacing:1px; }
.orin-a01 p{text-indent:25px; padding:0px 10px 10px 15px; margin:0px;}
.orin-a01{width:400px; background-color:#8F9674; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/orintable.jpg); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 255px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#3D3F29; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;}
</style>
[/html]