Don't Shoot

Foxglove Monroe · 05-11-2011, 03:37 AM

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+2 points.

The strange scent filled her nostrils, light pink nose twitching in response. It was not a scent that belonged to this tribe, and it was not accompanied by another scent, one of a member of the tribe. The only other smells were those of the general pack that lingered along the borders. Though the stranger was not trespassing, it seemed, it was within Foxglove's duties to greet her, for she had discerned the stranger's gender quickly. There was something else about the scent that made her pause, but Foxglove moved with purpose, putting that thought in the back of her mind.

Suddenly, she lifted her head curiously. "Ő a várandós," she breathed. That was what had made her scent so strange. Foxglove's sense of smell was perhas better than most due to the defected ear that, though cute, affected her hearing on one side. It had taken her a bit to recognize the oddness that accompanied the scent, but it drove her onward, more interested in learning why a pregnant stranger would be lingering about the tribe's fenced-in borders.

Eyes of jade saw the figure in the distance and she moved with purpose, trotting to greet the pregnant woman. Foxglove was physically young, so perhaps she was seen as too young to be a proper scout, but she was beyond her years in other ways. "Hello," she spoke softly, her tone irenic, peering up at the stranger. "I am Foxglove Monroe. Is there something you need with AniWaya?"

Her name was spoken with no obvious hesitation, but she felt strange to speak it in this area. Always she was wondering when she would find the one that recognized the name, the fur color, the obvious wrongness to her that had belonged to her mother. Someday, she would find someone that made the connection, and she could only wonder what would happen then.

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