11-30-2010, 06:42 PM
OOC: Thank you! I think your writing is lovely as well! ^^
If it was the temperature that had caused the dark fur across the wolf’s back to raise and wave their nude arms like insect legs, Estafilade would have been pleased. Yet the sturdy beast knew better. It was not the chill, pressing her thigh to him, which warranted his sudden unrest, but the female he’d come into contact with. Her stance wasn’t aggressive; it was knowing. He could tell by the way her knees bore her weight in perfect balance and by the keen glance of her eyes - shockingly red, those! - that she was cautionary, perhaps of him, perhaps of something she’d previously been preoccupied by. The wolf halted, his feet sinking slowly into the putrefied remains of organic matter and silt. Delicately each toe wrapped itself within the mud, cupping as fingers do water. He felt solid here--and strange…like a rabbit held out through winter in a cage with no shelter. She didn’t frighten him as he knew he didn’t frighten her, and in this they’d met an impasse. As the silence and the cold paced between the two, his bright eyes searched down for hers. He became consumed with thought.
Why was she so cautious? One black ear flicked rear-facing in question as his face stiffened. Had he been too abrasive? Did she find him as strange as he found her? Inwardly, the beast shook his head. Her solitary position in an open area ransacked by the coming winter proved too strange for him to denounce. He wondered is she guarded something as he surveyed her athletic body. It seemed strange to be on patrol in an area bordering a non-drinkable source. Estafilade’s consumption with theory played visibly on his face, and only when the woman responded to him did he redirect his gaze so that it locked with hers.
“‘Really?’” Her voice sounded testy, and at this he cracked an innocent smile. “Honest,” his deep voice rolled. “Why so quick to believe otherwise?” His breath ruffled and parted the think fur atop his chest as the wind dug her boney fingers into his back and ribs. The wolf’s eyes narrowed in unpleasantness and momentarily he removed his gaze from the red woman, instead lifting his snout to the lively current. His eyes closed as he sampled the wind, and reopened wearily after a brief summation. Even with his impervious coat, the time to seek refuge from the wind was nearing. His talon-like claws, still immersed in the mud, tightened gently. The sound of liquids being disturbed under a great weight was interrupted only by the wind which continued to bathe in the two canine’s hair. How unpleasant, Est mused.
If it was the temperature that had caused the dark fur across the wolf’s back to raise and wave their nude arms like insect legs, Estafilade would have been pleased. Yet the sturdy beast knew better. It was not the chill, pressing her thigh to him, which warranted his sudden unrest, but the female he’d come into contact with. Her stance wasn’t aggressive; it was knowing. He could tell by the way her knees bore her weight in perfect balance and by the keen glance of her eyes - shockingly red, those! - that she was cautionary, perhaps of him, perhaps of something she’d previously been preoccupied by. The wolf halted, his feet sinking slowly into the putrefied remains of organic matter and silt. Delicately each toe wrapped itself within the mud, cupping as fingers do water. He felt solid here--and strange…like a rabbit held out through winter in a cage with no shelter. She didn’t frighten him as he knew he didn’t frighten her, and in this they’d met an impasse. As the silence and the cold paced between the two, his bright eyes searched down for hers. He became consumed with thought.
Why was she so cautious? One black ear flicked rear-facing in question as his face stiffened. Had he been too abrasive? Did she find him as strange as he found her? Inwardly, the beast shook his head. Her solitary position in an open area ransacked by the coming winter proved too strange for him to denounce. He wondered is she guarded something as he surveyed her athletic body. It seemed strange to be on patrol in an area bordering a non-drinkable source. Estafilade’s consumption with theory played visibly on his face, and only when the woman responded to him did he redirect his gaze so that it locked with hers.
“‘Really?’” Her voice sounded testy, and at this he cracked an innocent smile. “Honest,” his deep voice rolled. “Why so quick to believe otherwise?” His breath ruffled and parted the think fur atop his chest as the wind dug her boney fingers into his back and ribs. The wolf’s eyes narrowed in unpleasantness and momentarily he removed his gaze from the red woman, instead lifting his snout to the lively current. His eyes closed as he sampled the wind, and reopened wearily after a brief summation. Even with his impervious coat, the time to seek refuge from the wind was nearing. His talon-like claws, still immersed in the mud, tightened gently. The sound of liquids being disturbed under a great weight was interrupted only by the wind which continued to bathe in the two canine’s hair. How unpleasant, Est mused.