table © Alaine
ooc: let the fun begin!
wc: 562
So perhaps he hadn't been as careful as he should have. In fact, that was a definite, and had the boy known in which general direction he waltzed, perhaps the fool would have taken more conscientious effort to disguise the sounds of his footfall, the heady scent of his male flesh. But no, the vagabond wandered aimlessly, carelessly, his head lost in thoughts incomprehensible to those of groundly sense.
The girl appeared out of nowhere. In fact, Caillen hadn't even noticed her until her own scent tickled his large ebony nose, and he'd turned to see her, watching him. Her eyes were the most bewitching shade of ruby red, glinting like rubies from the midst of the brushy tangle in which they peered. Her voice came next - A soft, melodic swell of sound, something about which made the blood in his veins shiver expectantly, reacting to something in the content of that lovely tone. By now, the wolfdog had frozen to the spot, his one erect ear sharply alert as it's floppy companion attempted (uselessly) to do likewise. One dirt-stained ivory forepaw remained frozen, mid-step, hovering above the leaf litter as if to complete the motion would be to fell his very stride.
When she emerged, relief, clouded by his own film of confusion, swamped Caillen's mind. The soft-spoken lady was small, so much more than he that the collie mix almost dwarfed her in height. She looked to be some elven guardian of this grave-yard forest, conjured from the coppers and greens as if born of them. For a moment, memory stirred - There had been another red-eyes damsel, forest-nymph, goddess incarnate; She who wielded the swords, she with hatred in her blood-red gaze. But this girl was not the one known as Halo, nor did she resemble her much, apart from that glorious crimson gaze.
Aware that he had been staring instead of answering her question, Caillen started swiftly, his larger body spinning clumsily in the leave litter to face her. The handsome youth's head lowered as a sign of submission - If this was her territory, he did not want to offend the pixie-girl for wandering arrogantly through it. The slate wolfdog opened his maw to answer, and finally realized the true strangeness of her question. What are you? Owlishly wide, innocent eyes trailed her as the young lady padded about him, the authority in her bearing making the youth's head sink even lower, his fluffy plume dipping down to hang limp behind his hind legs.
"I... I-I-I am, err... I am Caillen. My mother i-i-is..." Oh, hark! His stutter was embarrassing, and more flustered than before, the wolfdog swallowed hastily before continuing, "Is a collie dog, miss. I'm a half-breed, or thats what most w-w-would think of it."
Perhaps it was sheer luck that, on this occasion, Caillen hadn't openly branded himself as a wolf (as was generally his wont, so as to explain the large size and all). Maybe he had seen, in that fleeting second where her rose-hued eyes had met his own sky-blue, a flash of danger therein. But more likely, the young fool had proved his innate luck once again. His gaze dwelled on the pixie-girl, with her shapely, slender body, those haunting eyes, and a charmingly unsure smile curved about his doggish maw. "Pleased be tae m-m-meet you, miss?"
Speak think walk
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