Word Count :: 427 I have no idea what I'm doing....tell me if I'm doing something wrong x3
Frodo had been quick to arrive to the meeting. Or, ceremony, or whatever it was. Frodo wasn’t exactly sure. He wasn’t familiar with AniWaya’s culture, even though he was terribly anxious to learn more, and to become a part of it. But for the most of it, he understood that they were gathered together for the new year. That was odd, because he’d thought the new year had already come and gone, but obviously, he was wrong. Or at least wrong to his pack. And he felt AniWaya was right to picture this time as the new year, too. Spring was only just coming upon them, and it felt like a new beginning. The wolf had been busy with hunting and traps, and craft, in the pack, that he had hardly any time for knowledge, but he did his best to listen to the leader anyway.
He doubted the leader even knew his name. He knew hers, because he heard mumblings from the pack; after all, he knew when to turn up. But he was a bit of a loner in the pack for the time being. He hadn’t known Dawali, either. He supposed that was partly down to him being kidnapped before the war though; he’d missed an awful lot. However, he was determined to catch up. As he watched the tongue burn in the fire another fire burnt inside him, and his green eyes flashed brighter than ever. The black and golden man stood his ground and inhaled the smell of embers and burning smoke; one of his favourite aromas. Out of respect he’d left all weapons at home, and was dressed simply in his cloak and chain necklace with the ring strung upon it. The only dye he had in his body was permanent; gold flecks around his face.
While he stood, shivering a little, he caught site of Gemma at the edge of the group. Being a kind male he felt it was his job to make others feel wanted, comforted, and she looked far from it. Frodo walked up to her as quietly and relaxed as he could, standing beside her. He cast her a sideways glance. Yer lookin’ troubled. he whispered. He didn’t know if you were allowed to talk in the ceremony, so he kept his voice low. Tis’ the time for new beginnings. Forget yer wee troubles, let them burn with the tongue in the fire. he said finally, before averting his gaze to watch the flames and then their leader.
Image courtesy of Scott Hudson **; Table by the Mentors!
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