drifting and melting

Augustus · 02-29-2012, 12:23 PM

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ooc WC::536

Augustus

For a moment he felt ashamed of his question, it was a much more abstract concept and thus harder to explain. She, however, did not turn him down or seem to grow weary of him. He perked his ears in interest and watched as she scratched in the dirt. Where her claws lingered strange shapes began to take place. He’d seen these things before on his journey to Nova Scotia. They often marked areas that humans once dwelt in. So they served a purpose after all. He sat and watched intently, brows knitting. He rose and crouched over them, trying to get a better a look. She spoke the symbols aloud, giving them names saying them together as a word far too familiar to him. His own name. His eyes widened and he felt positively giddy. He never thought he could physically see his name, but now he did. The symbols were tall and slashed, proud and dignified. Still, it felt so strange to see it there in the dirt. It was long compared to Deuce, and looking at the two he noticed the similar U in hers. Their names shared a symbol. It meant nothing in truth to the true concept of reading, but he knew nothing of it before and marveled at it.

He poked his nose at the strange topless oval, straining for the word she’d called it. “U?” He questioned. His ears perked to her explanation, of human tales and stories. “I know how they perceived wolves, as beasts to be slaughtered.” It was a belief that had been carried down through generations of his pack, as they were traditional they never forgot man, revering him and fearing him as a destroyer. He nodded with certainty to his statements. He listened however as she told of building shelters and the like. “You lived in the human dens?” he snorted dismissively, but not disrespectfully. She’d given him so much to think on, and put up with him despite his ignorance and seemingly endless questions.

Her other offerings, of reading for pleasure. He could not see himself idling about, staring at symbols. He longed to feel the earth beneath his paws, thrived on the thrill of the hunt and that of the world around him. He was young and eager to prove himself, and would do whatever he could to achieve more. He knew he could do much and more for his pack. “Not for me.” He said shortly. “But I can see how it could prove useful,” he added soon after, not wanting to upset the woman. She was kind, motherly, more so than his own mother had been.

“I enjoy…talking to you.” He said then with a bit of difficulty. He was awful at expressing his emotions, but felt a great amount of gratitude for the woman. He laughed nervously when she called herself an old woman, knowing that she was elder, yes, but she had much life ahead of her still, feeling a bit sheepish that only minutes before he thought her like to fall over at any moment. When the moment passed he gained composure, thinking about how warm and nurturing she seemed. “Do you have other children, Deuce…besides Noah, I mean?”

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