Word Count :: +3:]
Although she knew - knew - there was solid mesh between them, she still felt an inkling of defensiveness as the speckled-splattered wolf suddenly loomed towards her, and rose back onto her feet in one single motion which resembled a puppet on strings being tugged upwards. It wasn't enough to make her lose her composure, though, even with the eye contact she could feel boring into hers. Annoyed, she let her dark irises return the glare and then widen in surprise to see the soft and appealing light in his. Most unexpected. She came closer, matching his approach step for step and their noses were just inches apart as the other wolf spoke softly, placatingly. She had not wished to be so sharp, but he wasn't a puppy to be indulged either. "No, Augustus..." she said eventually, still nose-to-nose, "you didn't." She hoped that was enough reassurance. It probably wasn't. He was asking for a story, and Caspa had no idea what to tell him. All she knew were moral fables, mostly about obeying one's father. Some were better, about kindness and compassion, but she would not be a preacher. Nor could she resist that puppylike sincerity and, yes, a certain charm, despite his grizzly post-hare jaws. She only had one option left; her story. "I'll tell you how I got here," she acquiesced, then lifted her head to gaze over her left shoulder for a moment while she collected her thoughts. When she returned her face to him, it was that of an utterly emotionless commentator. "I was born on the banks of a river estuary, in a pack of dogs and wolves. My father was high rank, and did not stoop to speak to puppies. My mother was afraid of him and hated herself, so did nothing but follow his orders. I grew up solitary. When I said I was leaving, he told me I had to travel and spread the word of our law. I am here to do that, but I don't, except for a few pieces of wisdom which I believe are true anyway." She had never summarised her life before, and it felt extremely unsatisfactory. "Well, you must agree your history is unspeakably romantic compared to mine." She hadn't even been exiled - she'd left by choice and with a blessing of sorts - and her family had betrayed her at birth, so she had never known anything else.
Image courtesy of ®DS @ flickr; Table by the Mentors!
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