SSWM Word Count :: 500
This post is awkward but I'm writing it off as Wayne presently being a moron.
Curse his love-struck mind. Wayne lowered his ears when the other glanced at him, realizing that he was foolish in his sudden appearance and greeting. Ever since he’d finally confessed his love for Dixie, love that had been tenderly returned to him, simple bliss had flooded him like a drug; everything was finally perfect. Even now his thoughts were claimed by her as he stood in stupid silence. Only the knowledge that much would come up in the next couple of months had convinced him to actually leave the pack territory and her side.
Realizing the age difference between him and the silvery-white wolf, the cowboy felt even more foolish. This was a luperci of experience, evidently, and from the scent of it an AniWayan too. Was he out here to hunt for the Tribe?
An extended hand broke the southern man out of his thoughts, and immediately he collapsed that hand in his own. Though he was a quiet canine, prone to grouchiness and shyness, his grip was firm—the handshake of a man who was confident and strong underneath all of that.
“Wayne McCoy,” the Onore said, filling in the gap with his name in a slightly more certain tone. He offered a small smile, not quite outgoing but still better than the awkward daydreaming his face had surely shown before. This male was about as far as Dixie as one could get; no point in letting her fog up his mind right now, as much as he adored her. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
After a moment, however, his awkwardness came back—though it was that fleeting idea that reclaimed his mind rather than thoughts of the girl at home. He withdrew his hand and adjusted his cowboy hat, glancing once more at the scars, his gaze moving swiftly as not to stare.
“This is gonna sound stupid, but—you seem to have gotten in a lot of battles.” His ears lowered, shifting the hat. “And I—” He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the pack lands he’d come from. “You smell of the Tribe, but you remind me of the kinda warriors we need in Casa di Cavalieri.”
Once more he fell silent. He would be quick to correct Light if he felt that the male was recruiting him out of the blue—but for some reason the Lab mix hoped that, just by standing around this muscular and scarred wolf, some of that skill would rub off on him. It was especially important now that new opportunities had opened up for him and Dixie-May. He didn’t know what the future would bring with his dear friend, but he wanted as always to make the world safe for her. He would already give his life for her without hesitation, but he wanted to be like their swordsman alpha and the others who could fight in the group. Right now, he was an unpolished cowboy, good with a horse but useless at anything but clumsy combat.
Image courtesy of just.jim @ flickr; Table by the Mentors!
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