a nervous tic motion of the head to the left

Theodoric Martin · 12-07-2010, 07:18 PM

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apologies for the delay. NaNoWriMo ate my November. (wc: 311)

With introductions made, Theodoric spread his cloak on the ground and took a seat. He settled near enough to carry on conversation at an acceptable volume, but not so close as to crowd his new acquaintance. Briefly, he wondered if he was flouting local tradition by seating before a senior member, but decided that was unlikely in a pack with AniWaya’s tribal structure. And in any case, he would not make the same mistakes as his previous stay across the sea, when he had been socially paralyzed by the fear of acting inappropriately. He had been an adult physically, but had not matured into a socially confident canine until recently.

A wry grin inched its way onto Theodoric’s features. He would never be rid of his thick Scottish accent, even if he tried – and he wasn’t that interested in trying. The way he spoke was a part of his identity, after all. “Not at all,” he replied amiably, “I was born and raised in the Scottish town of Edinburgh.” He paused, considered, and then elaborated for the other’s benefit, “It’s east across the sea and north a little, on a big ‘ole island.” The description was a little coarse, but he had no idea of Nayati’s knowledge of European geography. For wolves who spent their entire lives on this rather large continent, learning about their cousins across the sea would only have nominal value.

In passing, Theodoric had heard mention of AniWaya’s great sister tribe. He knew, vaguely, that the hierarchy and social values were borrowed from the other tribe, but otherwise knew little about it. Not where it was, nor why the current AniWayans had left it. “What is the Great Tribe like? I don’t know much about it.” He didn’t mean to pry, but he was curious. Theodoric had always liked to know the beginnings of things.

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