 8O
Red bit his lip when he saw the larger wolf take his dagger. He had very few things when it came to material possessions, and his dagger was by far his most precious. Really, it was his fault, for making such a bad throw. Somehow, the situation reminded him of when he had once chased a squirrel up a tree. The tiny beast had hung from a branch and chattered at him angrily. Sol half felt like doing the same, but he wasn’t exactly a squirrel.
”Yo come, yo miro. This place no claim before.” Red had guessed by this point that the other understood very little of his normal speak, so he tried to limit it to English phrases and words. The one thing Red didn’t understand was why everyone seemed to think that this was their territory. Or, at least this wolf did. Sol had been this way not a month or so before and there hadn’t been anyone here. Wolves didn’t come from trees, so where had this pack come from?
”Yo come, make round, miro. Yo come check tree. Tú, ¿De donde eres? Come from place?” Red pointed whenever he said ‘tú’ or ‘yo’ at the large wolf and himself respectively, but he still wasn’t sure if the other understood his questions, or his answers. ’This is very frustrating.’ Red came down a few branches, so that the other could see him better. The hybrid placed a hand on his chest. ”Red Sol” |
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