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When Ink had begun to get ready, doing things he didn't usually do, Sura felt sure he was going some where. Being obnoxious as she was, she'd decided that she wanted to come along too - whether or not he approved. Luckily for her, Ink didn't seem to mind her along and she found herself riding shotgun in the big horse's backpack. Sura had already thoroughly smelled every inch of it earlier, when Ink wasn't looking, just to claim it as her own. Ink was fortunate in some ways that Sura's primitive mind hadn't learned about some of the things that adults do, such as marking territory. It was perhaps the only reason that Sura's room and the saddlebags felt as clean and non-acidic as they did. Along their travels, Sura's mind was ablaze with stimulation. Colors, lights, sounds, new things, and traveling! She remembered her first travel with Ink and how it felt strange, and how she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. But today, she felt sure she loved the activity, and perhaps even had begun to crave it somewhere in her bones. Because traveling was such a priveledge, she'd tried to be on her best behavior, but she couldn't resist excusing herself to go paw at a differently colored rock, sniff that strange frog, or try to catch a butterfly she'd never seen before. Sura had learned that a howl meant someone was coming, even though someone might already be coming even if there wasn't such a howl. Sometimes the howl was filled with song, sometimes a message, or sometimes just a plain old howl. Sura knew this because her ears worked well and good. If someone was coming, that meant that they would probably meet them. She never felt too sure about meeting new people when Ink wasn't around, but when he was, it was a delightful activity. When Ink met such a stranger, giving a sort of welcome that Sura didn't think was friendly enough, she couldn't help but chime in. "Yea, wecause we is fwom Winatta. Dat is dis pwace! Dids you knows dat? It is nice pwace, wike my dad-er, bwoder. Since you comes to nice pwace to says hello, we say hewwlo backs! You must be wery nices! We can pways sometimes since you are wuff wike me! I wike yer furrrr..... Dids you knows I can wounts to won wundweds? I shows you! Won wonwunded, two won wonded, wee... " (hover for translation) , her voice droned off counting as she now held her paws in front of her face, precariously balancing herself inside of the horse's bags. " |
TL;DR : continue on!