When the stranger turned around as smiley and friendly as ever, she was eased of her sudden tension and beamed back at him. A gentle rose color tinted her cheeks beneath the short white fur as she blushed at the accolade. Her caramel eyes flicked from the last trace of the boat as it reared and bucked in its retreat through the waves, to the chestnut countenance before her. “That’s a tough break,” she muttered sadly as it disappeared. “If I knew any sailors I’d see if they could catch it.” Her face screwed up. “But I don’t. . . which is kind of ironic, considering where I live.”
“Well,” the somber note in her voice lightened and she grew cheerful, hoping to liven the fellow up. “A pleasure to meet you, Charles D’Fago! I’m Orin. . . Orin Takekuro.” She offered a handshake.
She was taken by surprise when the man voiced his intent to end their encounter so soon. He was sociable enough, and it was alien to Orin for such a friendly fellow to amble off so quickly. Her strange expression bore testament to her confusion as she cocked her head to the side and raised a questioning brow. On the other paw, she could understand the demands of a growling belly. Looking him over, she mulled over a thought. She knew this man was not a member of Cour des Miracles that she had just not met yet because she had become acquainted with everyone’s visage at the recent pack meeting, and she would certainly have remembered this fellow. And if that weren’t enough, what he asked next corroborated her assumption. So that only leaves one question. . .
How does the Court treat newcomers?
Certainly they would not treat this unfortunate man as a trespasser, for his arrival was merely circumstantial! (Or so she thought.) When she and her brother arrived, rowing in atop the waves on that rainy day, they had been welcomed with open arms. And even if the leaders of the Court did not like this man on their lands, she was not the one fit for running him off. So, her course of action became evident.
The smile returned to her face in an instant and she shook her head gently, her pink dreadlocks shifting about her shoulders. “No, I live here with my pack, but thanks for the concern. If the lighthouse was already fixed up I’d invite you up there for a bite, but unfortunately you’re a few weeks early for that. I’d be happy to take you back to the Hotel if you’d like. The leaders would probably like to know you’re here, anyway, and then we could provide a little hospitality and see if Vigilante wouldn’t mind you staying for a night or two.”