ooc:
The creature below was still very much alive. At least alive enough to protest the winged death’s presence. But it mattered little to the bird as he continued to hang aloft, calling again to his handler that something…large resided against a tree.
With swift step the Nomad came to heed her companion’s call, responding with short bursts of sound to encourage the bird back to her arm. But it maintained its position, shouting its new word until ocher eyes fell upon the cause of the nameless companion’s distress. It was a wolf just as he said, but a rather large one at that. A beast that wore the weathered garb of many seasons, yet had the enlightenment of experience within his eyes. Quickly letting her eyes wander of him, she spied her stolen lock in his possession and felt the fine ridge along her nape and back rise as a chill coursed its length.
“Sir…” the she-wolf halted her advance and maintained a respectable distance from the wanderer. The scent of pack clung to him but only finely. The essence being that of a pack she knew of but as a show of etiquette would not assume unless the information was offered. Before the elder male, she lowered her head and flattened her ears in humble presentation as was demanded by her culture, and kept it bowed until she was acknowledged. “Sir…pardon my interruption. I hope my companion has not disturbed you.”
.ooctable, .oocinfo {
background-image:none;
padding:10px;
line-height:12px;
margin:5px auto; width:85%;
background-color:#938d93;
border:1px solid #2d242d;
font-size:10px;
color:#2d242d;
border-radius:2px;
border-style: dashed;
-moz-border-radius:2px;
-webkit-border-radius:2px; }
.oocinfo {
font-size:10px;
width:250px;
margin:5px; }
</style>