ooc:
She hadn’t thought silence to be so unnerving until she was met with it this extensively. Had she done something wrong, she wondered. Her ears fell back with the unpleasant assumption and head further lowered in self reprimand for her lack of courtesy. She would do what she could to remedy the situation, if only she knew how she had caused the offense.
But the large male did not seem to be displeased with her…just silent. He shrugged his shoulders and tried to pull himself up and began…drawing? The Nomad had seen something of the like before, but assumed it was a kind of art. By why now? An exhibition? Perhaps he was a wandering artist. Unfortunately the woman hadn’t a sense of art to judge the work by, but humored the elder with an appeasing smile as she looked down at the work to comment.
“It looks very nice,” she commented sincerely, feeling brave enough to raise her head again. “Does it have a meaning, sir? It represents something?” Though she was not one to ask so many questions, she hoped at some point he would grant her with the sound of his voice and perhaps a name she might call him by.
.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>