.wickedwretch b {font-family:georgia, serif; font-weight:bold; color:#d8e0d3; letter-spacing:1px;}
.ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:10px;}
.wickedwretch p {text-indent:25px;padding:5px 10px;margin:0px;}
.wickedwretch {width:400px;border:1px solid #5a6e60;background-image:url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v26/K ... wretch.png);background-position:top center;background-repeat:no-repeat;padding-top:200px;background-color:#131f2a;text-align:justify;margin:10px;font-family:"Trebuchet MS", tahoma, sans-serif;font-size:11px;line-height:12px;color:#3e4b4d;}
</style>
For her, communication was easiest with the lower creatures. It had taken a lot of practicing for her to be able to speak with some of them in an efficient way, but now that she had it down she was finding that she enjoyed it far more than speech with those of her own species. The pup was a shut-in and an introvert, occupying her hours alone with made-up games and stories. She was able to easily amuse herself with these things and found little to no need to interact with members of the pack.
She was healing, still...that was a part of it, perhaps. The pup had been recovering for around a month but was still unable to use her back right leg...if it touched the ground or if she put any sort of weight on it, it buckled and pain would shoot through her upper leg and into her hip. There was likely some kind of nerve damage, even if the bones were healing well enough. She had spent most of the last month indoors with Saul and occasionally Siku, the female that lived there as well. But her alone-time was what she cherished.
The field that she padded through was full of beautiful flowers, insects buzzing past her ears as they flew from flower to flower doing their duties. She was careful of where she walked for the most part, trying to be sure that she didn't accidentally step on one of the stinging creatures. Hey! This would be an amazing game...stay-off-the-bees! She started to go a little faster, changing course when she saw a bee on a flower in front of her.
The game went on for a quarter-hour as she padded along through the field, her head swinging back and forth, a tune on her lips. She became entranced with the song, keeping her footsteps in time to the beat. It was that entrancement that made her lose focus, though, and trod upon a few of the bee-ridden blossoms. A sharp pain in one of her usable front paws made her yelp and she sat back, wincing, a whine whistling out from between her teeth. How was she supposed to walk home with two legs that didn't work right?