03-15-2012, 09:42 AM
She had only just heard about the calamity that had befallen her friend and Caspa had immediately rushed to grab her coat, without even taking the time to empty the deep pockets containing all her worldly possessions, and hurry at her fastest walk to the residence of the King. She had only been here once before, to deliver Skoll safely home after a midnight escapade. She had not come inside.
She prayed to the spirit that her friend had not been injured as badly as she had been. Her own broken bones were still tender, and the enforced rest had been frustrating enough for her. How would Terra cope - such a lively quickfire of a restless spirit - with convalescence?
At the threshold Caspa hesitated, the scents of the Haskel family overridden by the fresh scent of blood. Her jaw set, not that it was capable of many other expressions in its broken state. She would have waited to be formally admitted, but nobody answered her quiet whine. The fresh blood was strange - it was too fresh, too raw a scent, like a hurt just inflicted. Concerned, the white hound swept inside and let her nose draw her like a magnet to the source. Terra was contorted in position, her bandages stained with fresh blood: she worried at it, and there was the look of pain in her eyes. Caspa's eyes shot wide open, then she launched herself at her friend, aiming to forcefully pin her down, immobilise her so she stopped her self-destructive behaviour. "Ridiculous woman! What are you doing?" she scolded, not sure whether the suffering coy-wolf could even hear her through the agony.
She prayed to the spirit that her friend had not been injured as badly as she had been. Her own broken bones were still tender, and the enforced rest had been frustrating enough for her. How would Terra cope - such a lively quickfire of a restless spirit - with convalescence?
At the threshold Caspa hesitated, the scents of the Haskel family overridden by the fresh scent of blood. Her jaw set, not that it was capable of many other expressions in its broken state. She would have waited to be formally admitted, but nobody answered her quiet whine. The fresh blood was strange - it was too fresh, too raw a scent, like a hurt just inflicted. Concerned, the white hound swept inside and let her nose draw her like a magnet to the source. Terra was contorted in position, her bandages stained with fresh blood: she worried at it, and there was the look of pain in her eyes. Caspa's eyes shot wide open, then she launched herself at her friend, aiming to forcefully pin her down, immobilise her so she stopped her self-destructive behaviour. "Ridiculous woman! What are you doing?" she scolded, not sure whether the suffering coy-wolf could even hear her through the agony.