(371) Since AniWaya is all about guests and what-not, I figured this would be a good way to keep this thread going. :>
art by crypsis
Ultimately, Anatole was a wolf of the old breed. He functioned as a true wolf because it was familiar to him; he had run with Luperci and non-Luperci alike in the north, where the virus had not fully spread, and many of the infected still functioned as they had before. Isolation allowed for such a thing. It was simple, to live like that, even when very large societies popped in the place of more wide-roaming and smaller packs. This was why he was stiff now, and why, at her subtle signs of submission, the tension left his body. AniWaya lacked true warriors, but Anatole certainly would consider himself more than capable of fending off any threat.
Not that he suspected this girl, with her slight form and doe-like eyes, would be a threat. She had called for help, after all, and so he supposed this was not any sort of attack. Certainly her words suggested otherwise, as she moved to present the big bag at her feet. Anatole cocked his head and took several steps forward, extending his nose just so to sniff at it. The whole thing smelled of leather, and of the smoky, salty scent he identified with The Waste.
As his silence wore on, a familiar voice spoke from behind him. “Anatole,” the eagle warned, as gently as she ever was, and he flicked an ear back at her in annoyance. His head withdrew and he looked up to the girl, massive next to her even in his lupus form. “Wado,” he said, albeit it oddly pronounced given his heavy Quebecois accent. “I’m sure our leaders will accept Inferni’s goodwill. You’ve come a long way,” he went on, recalling how long it took him to travel south after passing the land marked by skulls. “Since they are not here asteure,” he slipped into his native tongue, barely realizing he had. “We can offer you our hospitality.” Though his face was rugged and his eyes harsh, his voice was a peculiar soft rumble. AniWaya’s culture was based around such principles, and as such, his voice rarely rose (unless he was out with just the eagle, and then he was often like a child, barking and arguing incessantly with her).
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