10-13-2012, 04:22 AM
Ottilie had heard tell of the Anathema pack on her travels; a place for misfits, occultists and criminals, thieves and liars. A place with an understandably dark reputation, a reputation that appealed to her. She doubted that the pack would be accepting of her terrible habit, but no matter-- she had kept it secret since it had begun, she could continue to do so now. But here, she suspected, one of her temperament may find more of a place than in other packs. And, if it didn't work out, well. Her home had wheels; she could always leave.
Said home rolled up to the border before Ottilie pulled on Svadilfari's reigns, calling the draught horse to a stop. The coyote was sat in the doorway of her wooden caravan, leaning against the door, feet dangling over the edge. It was a position she was accustomed to, as it was the only real way to drive the caravan. She hopped down from her perch, patting a hand over Svadilfari's neck as she passed him. The Percheron huffed at her and stood placidly.
Ottilie strode confidently to the border, yawning and rubbing her neck as she did so. There was no trepidation in her stance, no submission in her pose. That changed quickly however-- she dropped her ears and tail, lowering her head to make herself seem 'meek'. It was not something hat came naturally to her, but she managed. She tilted back her head and let out a howl to announce her presence. She didn't want to just mooch around at the border in the hopes of being discovered, after all.
Now all there was to do was wait, she suppose. Svadilfari nickered, stomping a hoof restlessly. Hush, dear. Ottilie chided, sending the horse quiet.
Said home rolled up to the border before Ottilie pulled on Svadilfari's reigns, calling the draught horse to a stop. The coyote was sat in the doorway of her wooden caravan, leaning against the door, feet dangling over the edge. It was a position she was accustomed to, as it was the only real way to drive the caravan. She hopped down from her perch, patting a hand over Svadilfari's neck as she passed him. The Percheron huffed at her and stood placidly.
Ottilie strode confidently to the border, yawning and rubbing her neck as she did so. There was no trepidation in her stance, no submission in her pose. That changed quickly however-- she dropped her ears and tail, lowering her head to make herself seem 'meek'. It was not something hat came naturally to her, but she managed. She tilted back her head and let out a howl to announce her presence. She didn't want to just mooch around at the border in the hopes of being discovered, after all.
Now all there was to do was wait, she suppose. Svadilfari nickered, stomping a hoof restlessly. Hush, dear. Ottilie chided, sending the horse quiet.