05-21-2011, 11:29 PM
[html]
There was nothing upon the bleak face of the Halcyon Mountains—the wind- and rain-stained rocks provided little protection from the prying eyes of the unspoken sentinel. He noticed even before the salty breeze brought the other man's scent his approach. There was a dull surprise that settled in his pale eyes; the list of those he had met (that he remembered, certainly) was a monosyllabic list to say the least. He wondered vaguely if he knew this stranger, but something told him not. There was no familiarity he noticed as the other werewolf drew closer. One ear flicked to the front and then back—a silent acknowledgement of his approach—but Quintus did not speak up. He did not even move; he remained where he sat.
It was in his distraction, dedicated to the approaching stranger, that another managed to sneak up upon them. He looked to the smaller woman, face more resembling a mask rather than something truly animated with life. His mind sifted through her words for anything of use only after the fact, but he found little. An introduction was not something he could use. Neither of them could help him with his predicament, and neither seemed to have even the slightest shred of information. He grumbled lowly in frustration; he wrung his hands and the only sound that came from him was the jangling of the chains at his wrists. He did not seem extremely concerned with the strangers, or of introductions or idle chit-chat.
[/html]
There was nothing upon the bleak face of the Halcyon Mountains—the wind- and rain-stained rocks provided little protection from the prying eyes of the unspoken sentinel. He noticed even before the salty breeze brought the other man's scent his approach. There was a dull surprise that settled in his pale eyes; the list of those he had met (that he remembered, certainly) was a monosyllabic list to say the least. He wondered vaguely if he knew this stranger, but something told him not. There was no familiarity he noticed as the other werewolf drew closer. One ear flicked to the front and then back—a silent acknowledgement of his approach—but Quintus did not speak up. He did not even move; he remained where he sat.
It was in his distraction, dedicated to the approaching stranger, that another managed to sneak up upon them. He looked to the smaller woman, face more resembling a mask rather than something truly animated with life. His mind sifted through her words for anything of use only after the fact, but he found little. An introduction was not something he could use. Neither of them could help him with his predicament, and neither seemed to have even the slightest shred of information. He grumbled lowly in frustration; he wrung his hands and the only sound that came from him was the jangling of the chains at his wrists. He did not seem extremely concerned with the strangers, or of introductions or idle chit-chat.