D'awww, thank you. <333 (332)
She reminded him of Mother. They were not very similar in facial structure, and Mother clearly showed her age over this woman, but the resemblance was there nonetheless, and it made Harlowe vaguely uncomfortable. He did miss his mother, and he did not understand why she had gone away. He was supposed to be an adult now, though—he was no longer a dependent little puppy. He had just passed his first birthday, in fact, and he was really an adult now. Harlowe's body was finally beginning to resemble that of an adult, losing the stringy, long-legged awkwardness of adolescence. He was growing into his height at long last, and it no longer appeared ridiculous on him.
Harlowe peered at her in interest as she mentioned healing by herbs; he knew nothing about this subject, and his search for books on the subject had been fruitless. Humans practiced some other kind of medicine, and he had determined it was mostly chemical, infused with some mechanical elements. They also heavily relied on surgery, something unheard of—as far as Harlowe knew, anyway—in the Luperci world. What she said next, however, caught his attention even more, and he lifted his brows in surprise, a fleeting display of emotion that faded as he spoke. “You're not a Luperci?” he asked. “That's unfortunate...” he said, trailing off and frowning.
After a moment of hesitation, he spoke again. “Harlowe D'Angelo,” he said, almost forgetting to introduce himself—so interesting was her plight, the nuances of manners had almost entirely escaped him. He would not be so easily sidetracked from the subject at hand, however, and he returned to the Luperci issue immediately after speaking his name, barely a pause left between the end of his surname and the first word of the next sentence. “Mother said you could become one if you wanted to. Why don't you become one?” he asked, failing to consider the possible brashness of the question, and how abrasive it might be.
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