Word Count :: 000 So's Frodo. And thanks =3
The male chuckled, seeing the spark in the other brutes eyes as the challenge was mentioned. All in good will, more of a game than a battle of rights, but a challenge all the same. Frodo ran his hand through his curly hair and gave a boisterous lurch to the side, his banner swooping in a wide arc over the length of his body. This would be fun. The most fun he’d had in a long while, in fact. Hrmm… he scratched his chin with an ebony claw, then wiped his brow with the padded palm and gave a low stoop, crouching down to eye level with the secui formed lad. Let’s go find ‘nuffer Rudolf. Moosey, even. Knew it were one of them sleigh born thingy majiggers. he started, scratching his curly head and making sense only to himself. Father Christmas was a strange subject for a luperci to know about. And it was even more odd that he was confusing moose for reindeer. Frodo wasn’t stupid, he was actually highly intelligent, believe or not. He was just easily confused and absent minded. An unfortunate guy. Except when on a hunt. When on a hunt, or in another dangerous situation, the boy would be completely focused.
We can ‘unt tha’ first, so we can. In secui form.THEN we go optime, ‘untin some of my birdies, so to speak. An’ be decidin’ which is the more challengin’ to catch overall. And no bias, yeah? Fair and square, kay skipper? Hitler be watchin’ over us, mark my words, all those naughty boys and girls wont be gettin’ their pressies thisa year. he paused, flashed a lopsided grin. Half of what I say is rubbish. he added quickly, hoping he wasn’t getting too carried away with himself. But listen to this bit. If we find my birds were more challengin’, I win. Don’t want no prize or nuffink. Just pride. But if we decide moosey was, I make you a bow outa finest hog tusks around. Aint gonna get no offer like that nowhere else.
Rocking back on his heels eagerly, he did a dance around Light, a newfound spring in his step. Eventually he crouched down again, settling himself into a crossed-legs position. Frodo was actually quite short, 5 foot 8 in optime, so he looked up at Light now. The narrow shouldered boy could now study his hunting partner more, and take in the many battle wounds that ran across his body and face. Frodo couldn’t help but wonder what on earth had happened to him. His intense green eyes scanned the ripped ears, yet it wasn’t obvious of his staring, and as he was simply curious but not ravenous for knowledge, he was not staring either. Still, there was a gentle incline of his head, the cranium tilting to the side in awe. Frodo pursed his chiselled maw, and made an optimized statement. You're no hunter. he paused, waiting for the anger or offence to be taken. You're a warrior. he added stiffly, his lips turning upwards into a grin, continuing to admire the many scars littering Light's pelt.
Image courtesy of Scott Hudson **; Table by the Mentors!
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