wc 443
Her eyes caught his soul and dragged him down, hard. Or perhaps they lifted him up to new levels of creativity and emotion. In any case, Davyn couldn't take his eyes from hers, even for more than a second. He knew that as of yet he had not met this damsel in his wanders of the packlands, but then again, he could count on one paw the number of people he had met in his month here. He was glad to meet this female, hoped to get to know her more. Words raced through his mind in a desperate attempt to adequately describe her...and fell short. There were simply no words to describe the perfection that sat before him.
He sat on the floor, intentionally keeping his head lower than hers to give the impression of being in the presence of royalty. "My lady, you have no cause to apologize. It is I who should apologize. I would have noticed your presence earlier had I not been engrossed in my writing. I...I do indeed write for gratification. In my mind, writing is an expression of emotion, thoughts and emotion colliding to mix in their own ways."
Davyn furrowed his brow, repeating her name and horribly mutilating her surname in his lilting accent. "You alone, milady, may call me Davyn, if you so wish. I came up here for inspiration, and it seems to me that I have found the perfect source for such." He grinned at her, implying that she was the source of such inspiration. "The trek up here was truly nothing compared to the walks and hikes of my homeland." He paused. The green scent of his homeland still lingered in his memories, a distant song that called to memories deeply buried. And they were going to stay buried for a bit longer, as he turned his attention to the damsel in front of him.
He noticed that she sat like a lady, her legs gently curled to the side of the stool. Davyn internally cursed himself, forcing his attention back to the conversation. "You have no need to be jealous, milady. I'm sure you have talents of your own that surpass those of other beings. You seem like you are very talented, and I have only known you for but a few minutes."
Davyn's mouth was dry, he noticed. Her voice was raspy, but it was gentle, caring. He could see her, in his mind's eye, playing in the snow as a puppy. He did not know if she had ever been a pup in the snow, but he could all too easily picture her lovely fur catching the snow.
.davynsnow b {font-weight:bold; color:#021F2B; letter-spacing:1px; }
.davynsnow .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;}
.davynsnow p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;}
.davynsnow {margin:0px auto; width:400px; background-color:#EAEEF9; background-image:url(http://i55.tinypic.com/i5bp0h.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 10px 0px 238px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;}
</style>
[/html]