tin man

Eris Eternity · 05-25-2011, 05:38 AM

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Word Count » 493 <3

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

She saw she needn't have prodded him immediately; the rise and fall of his chest signified he was indeed, alive. The coyote woman was not particularly disappointed with his life, though she might have preferred a corpse washing ashore than a live canine. Now she was obligated to see to him and maybe make sure he didn't get swept back out to sea again. Or she wasn't. The sable coyote peered down at him and flicked an ear as he spoke, considering whether she ought to stay here and tend to him or simply continue walking.

The latter would have been the easier choice by far, but unfortunately for Eris's quiet walk, her cruel streak did not extend quite so wide, and she knelt down, her grip sliding down the gnarled branch. It leaned back against her right shoulder, quite ready to whack down toward his head if he chose to make a move for her. The arrogant coyote didn't quite think he posed so much of a threat, and most canines didn't spit in the face of assistance when it came calling. Some did, of course, and so the stick was there, ready to come bearing down on his head if he chose to make his rejection of her offer physical rather than verbal.

“I don't understand whatever that is. You've washed up on shore. Do you want help?” The words were simple, and she wondered if he understood them. The language he spoke was an utter mystery to her, completely foreign from anything the hybrid knew, the strange rapid-fire language Axi and Salvia spoke or the grumbling growl Larkspur sometimes adopted. The offer of help was not made entirely in generosity; the hybrid would expect something in return, but it was nothing to her to save the man's life and indebt him to her. She was not a healer, but he didn't seem terribly hurt, aside from a dark stain of red near to his temple. Of course, the coyote had no idea the potential severity of head wounds and underestimated the ding in the pale wolf's head.

She could set him up with a meal easily enough, and, dependent on his wishes, the coyote could take him back to Salsola, or she might leave him beneath a tree. He was too big to lug back to the pack forcibly, and even if she got him there in the first place, making him stay was another matter entirely. Keeping a slave of such size was unwise entirely; the idea had already crossed her mind and crossed out again. Still, though she could not have him forcibly, she perhaps wanted him still -- his size was formidable, to say the least, and the coyote woman had respect for that in and of itself. There were other factors to consider, of course, but the gears behind her chartreuse-yellow eyes spun ceaselessly nonetheless, scheming after the pallid thing that had washed near her shore.

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