WC: 398 You need to see Enchanted too, and a lot more will make sense xD;
It had seemed the two came from different worlds entirely - she floating from the clouds, and he a down to earth creature. If only she had been told the stories of his life, the things that he went through.. it would surely make her weep. A small shock of surprise came from the girl when she finally took notice of his bandaged arm, which he drew to shake her own hand in greeting. Giselle had been too busy admiring the horse to notice. "You're hurt.." She stammered under her breath, more out of immediate concern than anything.
But then he gave his name and title, and her train of thought changed. He was the leader of a pack? 'Elle had never heard of Inferni before, but all of a sudden the male became more interesting than the creature he rode upon. "A-are you a prince?" The statement was a hopeful one, blue eyes sparkling in the mid-afternoon sun. Her feet felt frozen to the spot, unable to move, only imagining ever coming across a prince at this time, in this place. He did not look like a prince, but Giselle had read tales of princes dressing as commoners to get away from their royal life.
Before she could say anything else, Ezekiel made a comment about her companion, to which he reacted to rather boldly. 'Weasel?!' Tux squeaked at Giselle's feet, and she gasped when he climbed up her arm and perched on her shoulder, squeaking out what would be obscenities at the strange male. With a sole finger Giselle placed it over the stoat's mouth, who seemed close to jumping on the coyote and showing him a thing or two. "Tux, please~ We're in the presence of a.. prince."
Giselle only had to assume he was - he led an entire pack. Did they all have large ears like his? Doing the only thing she knew she could, Giselle curtsied before the man, apologizing for her animal companion's outburst. "I'm sorry, dear prince. He doesn't like being called a -- you know." Her cheeks were powdered red with embarrassment, removing the finger from her now silent stoat. She stroked his chocolate and cream chest. Though a stoat could also be called a weasel, Tux hated the latter title. It meant, in his beady eyes, that he was not bold or brave, like calling a knight unchivalrous.
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