No worries! 
I don't mind lolol. <3 And, I think it's really funny that Swentzle actually writes himself differently when he's high...LOL
Word Count → 364
She echoed him, and then asked a question he hadn't quite expected--but suspected he should have. Swentzle paused a moment to consider it, and scratched at his throat and chin as he thought, before he nodded, smiling in a somewhat dazed manner. "Yes, I suppose so. I like it more than I did tobacco, anyway." He'd always hated the ceremonial passing of the pipe during council meetings--their infrequency meaning he embarrassed himself with a coughing fit nearly every time--but this wasn't quite so awful. Perhaps because he wasn't helping to decide the fate of the tribe; it was merely...casual. Was that the word he was looking for? There was nothing important riding on this meeting, anyway, except perhaps his possible entrance into Ichika--someday--but she didn't seem to dislike him intensely, and Ichika didn't strike him as the sort of pack who would reject people on a whim, anyway.
They seemed to reflect together for a moment on the severity of mistakes, before she shook herself out of it and shot him and inquiry. He took another moment to think about it, lifting his head to stare up at the sky for a moment, before he said finally, "I learned, from a woman named Kiara Amarok, that Ichika No Ho-En is a spiritual and family-based pack..." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, and to allow her a moment to confirm or deny that sentiment, before he continued, "My tribe was the same. But I am...not certain I will be of the same use to Ichika as I was to Shikoba." Scratching his cheek, just below the odd blossom-shaped scars over his eyes, he sighed and added, "This is mostly what makes me hesitate in joining. It is true I would like to visit the neighboring packs, but I feel I am simply...not as useful as I once was." He didn't know what had made him say all that, especially to a stranger, but now that it was out in the open he felt both heavier and...lighter, somehow. As though all he'd needed was to word his difficulties the right way.
Table by Aly, code by the Mentors!
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