Far From Home

Shiloh Dawnbringer · 10-17-2012, 07:59 PM

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Baahhh I suck! D: And I love this thread so my slowness = doubly sad. :C

Word Count → 602

Shiloh laughed at his remark about the silliness of childhood. “Oh, no, I was dreadful,” she admitted to the Cockney shepherd. “I didn’t let myself have fun at all; I was always fretting about whether I had a speck of dirt on my pelt, and how tired I was of having to do menial work, and I just whined all the time. My brothers were the ones who knew how to have fun, even if it was through getting themselves awfully dirty.” She grinned at him, slightly sheepish but a little more open than she would be with another stranger. He seemed like the type of guy who could laugh at himself, and so she didn’t mind him joining in amusement at her own expense—or the expense of the old Shiloh, rather. It was nice to phrase how she’d changed out loud, just as proof of how she’d changed for the better.

Harvey dismissed the idea that Nova Scotia was any worse, and she wondered about pressing him about the faraway lands. She guessed she’d never visit there, though, especially not if she had so much to attend to at home, with her family. She was also tempted to ask him if he missed it, but she wasn’t sure whether it was polite. Then again, she’d abandoned most protocol with strangers to be more herself around the merle dog.

“I’ve only heard a little about it,” Shiloh decided to comment. “But there are a lot of canines who find their way here from places like Russia or France or what-have-you. Two cousins of mine come from Ireland, in fact.” She didn’t think that was too horribly far from where Harvey came from, but she wasn’t about to pretend she was an expert on European geography.

She smiled after his bout of soft laughter, shaking her head. “I have a lot of family there,” she said, being honest with him. “But Vinátta is a good place for traders, or crafters. At least, our village has that kind of feel—not human like the city, but with plenty left behind. I think we have a vineyard, and of course stables. I’ll admit I’m new to it, really, so I’ve yet to figure out everything there is about its culture, but our village and the forest itself is quite something. And the pack’s only recently been established, earlier this year I think, so we’re still growing as a whole.” She finished this miniature speech with a shrug, knowing that she wasn’t the person to talk to for recruitment besides flashing a pretty smile. Her brother and the other founders would know exactly what to say and how to be up front with the expectations and culture of the pack, while she was only a Risna exploring the different paths to see where her future lay.

The man grew a bit more subdued after her honest speech about loyalties, and she nodded before deciding that she owed him one thing. “Speaking of enemies,” she said, her tone growing sharp and serious, blue eyes resting on his mismatched ones, “the pack on the other side of the lake from us—they’re dangerous. And I’m not saying this because my pack doesn’t like them; I was personally threatened, and a companion of mine was just because she was a dog.” She looked the other’s mottled red pelt over and smiled a sad, desperate sort of smile. “I don’t want you to run into them in your exploring, Harvey. I obviously can’t make you promise not to explore this area, but… I don’t want someone like you hurt.”

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