plants and playdates

Skoll Haskel · 02-29-2012, 10:01 PM

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My post suuuucks. +3

Skoll was not completely unfamiliar to danger and intrusion anymore; after all, he’d been attacked by a bobcat, and he’d tried to drive a mistaken intruder out of his family’s house. However, he was still young—and though he was more cautious than before after his near-death experiences, there was still a small part of the boy that believed himself to be invincible. The borders of Cercatori d’Arte were open, and while he hoped to be on his best behavior to the pack members here, he was unaware of the real tension underneath their vigilance.

And so, when he was hopping into the fenced-in gardens, the cub believed he was doing nothing wrong. He sniffed around the stalks and pawed at the ground when an interesting scent caught his attention. He began to nibble at the exposed end of a root when a muffled thud reached his ears. Lifting his head, the puppy began to step forward to investigate—but there was no need to see if there really was another canine there, as a firm voice demanded for the child to reveal himself.

The prince was not used to that kind of authoritative voice; he was not often scolded in the Court, and he was dominant over his littermates. His curly tail began to rise in a show of defiance before he remembered where he was, and with a stab of unease, he slunk out guiltily from among the plants to see a white wolf standing there. His eyes were differently colored like his nephew Jiva’s, but instead of purple and green, they were deep blue and bright gold. It was something he only noted in passing, however, his wolf instincts instead choosing to acknowledge the other’s stance.

“I’m not causin’ trouble,” Skoll blurted, though he kept his ears and tail down. “Terra said the borders’re open, and I met Bambi and I saw the boat and I ain’t got in trouble.” He was not a bad boy, and he was anxious about being seen that way.

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