From Where the Weapons Were Formed

Saluce Tremblay · 08-16-2010, 12:36 PM

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318 (sorry had a bit of writers block)

For a few breathe moments as the air filtered through his nose those eyes watched her with interest. The she wolf spoke and yet when words normally would flood his mind nothing came but a soft nod of acknowledgement of receiving the message. Soon though his long legs carried him toward a table with a few chairs and one love seat almost meant for those that decided to converse in lupus form. Saluce pulled out a seat for himself as he turned around to offer her a spot at the table. His hand then reached for his thermos to uncork and drink down some chilled water held within.

“Would you like a seat? Or some water?” the voice offered her with a quiet reserve to it. She after all had called him wolf which only a handful of people had ever been able to get away with. “I’m afraid the last time we met though, I was not” he framed his muzzle in thought with those large paws before answering “quite myself. So it seems simple things like names and introductions have not taken place yes?” his speech patterns had almost reverted back to a simple French accent, one he used to hide vehemently now he found himself not caring. Speaking English so long had done well to hide the French underneath but sometimes if the listener was paying attention, the accent was there in its brilliant glory.

He bowed then “My name es Saluce Tremblay, Former Warrior and Weapon smith to the nobility of Whales. And I said warrior on purpose because I am no Knight” suited he had properly introduced himself to the women he sat down and quickly took another drink of water. The shop was almost too hot for a wolf, with no way to expel heat through his pelt, copious amounts of water where the only relief he attained some days.

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