09-20-2008, 09:56 AM
"Don't fall into temptation just yet, you'll enjoy them more when winter hits.. We figured that we'd take a page from the human's book.. Why hunt in the harsh of winter when we can keep the prey close at hand.."
The female's voice caught strong attention in the male's head, and he definitely heard every word she said this time. And there were mixed emotions. First was relief. Knowing now that he wouldn't have the issue of trying to become vegetarian or something with such easy prey nearby, the mouth watering in his maw was a little more tolerable, but still a bit more wet. Yummy cows. Winter? When was that? Was that near? Yes, of course. It was coming into fall now. A couple months, was it? In a twisted way, he wished that prey would get scarce early this year, so he could feast. Or was that just some problem with wanting what you can't have? Emory was being immature and childish about this, and so he pushed it aside from his mind. For now. Yummy cows.
The second feeling was embarrassment. She had a very motherly tone to her, like scolding a bad kid looking for trouble. Emory was a four year old male, he should be at /least/ past the stage of needing someone else to tell him how to behave. He couldn't have been making a good impression on his fellow pack member right now. Did he really suck that much at first impressions? Was it fate that everyone he met needed to see his stupidity before the persona? All his years in solitude must have really kicked down his social skills, or kicked up his dorkiness onto others. Both were very real possibilities. Sadly, they could easily be mutual to the situation. And he was on all fours to boot, with no thumbs. So there, Mr. Medley. Your life is pointless. No cows for you.
One of the later emotions was pointless, and it was just a distaste for the apples that the nameless female held at her hip and moved as if it were precious. Apples versus meat? Preposterous.
The outcome of these emotions coming at the same time had a weird affect on Emory's face. It was sort of like a frown, averted eyed, questioning, curious look. Closely related to the facial expression of constipation. Commonly associated with retardation, etc. Awkwardly nodding at her 'of course' statement, he didn't really know what else to do with himself. He felt pretty stunned at the moment. She began moving away again and he followed suit along behind slowly. Stupid apples. He felt mindlessly helpless as he tagged along behind her. Stupid.. thumbs. Must be nice to be able to carry a basket in your hands. Or..paws. Whatever the young'ns were calling them these days. He had a mouth, and that was about it. Stupid.. genetics that he never got around to getting.
"I said tag along, not become my slave.. Slaves could come in handy too.. willing slaves of course."
Emory was glad to hear that there was a teasing in her voice. Or that he'd convinced himself that there was. That meant she wasn't uncomfortable enough with him to notice his mental battles with cows and apples. He shuddered happily. Yummy cows. He'd be looking for the weather to become harsher everyday now. Though there was dark humor behind her tone, Emory smiled sheepishly. How was he supposed react to that? Agree? Was he that unsociable? He couldn't find anything intelligent to say to even a friendly joke. He would definitely need to work on that one. Next thing he knew, others would be finding him walking around the woods talking to himself in conversation, practicing responses to all the question he could think of being asked.
"So, what's your name? I'm Iskata, Matriarch here.."
Oh. She decided to help him out. He was sure in her head, he was like a monk wolf or something. Maybe they'd consider him as Secret Keeper or something. He'd know everything and never say anything. Perfect. But he decided it was due time he'd spoken to the authority in front of him. As she ended her sentence, his ears and tail dropped automatically. Emory was shorter than Iskata in his little wolf form, but he still felt the need to show some sort of submission around his superiors. Eying the sketchy cellar doors, he swallowed, clearing his throat. Not that he'd been talking too much for it to be necessary. Nodding to himself for reassurance, he spoke for the first time in a while, his male voice contradicting hers, blending in with nature's sounds within itself.
"Emory.. my name. It's uh.. Emory. ..Medley."
Confidently, of course.
Word Count: 789
The female's voice caught strong attention in the male's head, and he definitely heard every word she said this time. And there were mixed emotions. First was relief. Knowing now that he wouldn't have the issue of trying to become vegetarian or something with such easy prey nearby, the mouth watering in his maw was a little more tolerable, but still a bit more wet. Yummy cows. Winter? When was that? Was that near? Yes, of course. It was coming into fall now. A couple months, was it? In a twisted way, he wished that prey would get scarce early this year, so he could feast. Or was that just some problem with wanting what you can't have? Emory was being immature and childish about this, and so he pushed it aside from his mind. For now. Yummy cows.
The second feeling was embarrassment. She had a very motherly tone to her, like scolding a bad kid looking for trouble. Emory was a four year old male, he should be at /least/ past the stage of needing someone else to tell him how to behave. He couldn't have been making a good impression on his fellow pack member right now. Did he really suck that much at first impressions? Was it fate that everyone he met needed to see his stupidity before the persona? All his years in solitude must have really kicked down his social skills, or kicked up his dorkiness onto others. Both were very real possibilities. Sadly, they could easily be mutual to the situation. And he was on all fours to boot, with no thumbs. So there, Mr. Medley. Your life is pointless. No cows for you.
One of the later emotions was pointless, and it was just a distaste for the apples that the nameless female held at her hip and moved as if it were precious. Apples versus meat? Preposterous.
The outcome of these emotions coming at the same time had a weird affect on Emory's face. It was sort of like a frown, averted eyed, questioning, curious look. Closely related to the facial expression of constipation. Commonly associated with retardation, etc. Awkwardly nodding at her 'of course' statement, he didn't really know what else to do with himself. He felt pretty stunned at the moment. She began moving away again and he followed suit along behind slowly. Stupid apples. He felt mindlessly helpless as he tagged along behind her. Stupid.. thumbs. Must be nice to be able to carry a basket in your hands. Or..paws. Whatever the young'ns were calling them these days. He had a mouth, and that was about it. Stupid.. genetics that he never got around to getting.
"I said tag along, not become my slave.. Slaves could come in handy too.. willing slaves of course."
Emory was glad to hear that there was a teasing in her voice. Or that he'd convinced himself that there was. That meant she wasn't uncomfortable enough with him to notice his mental battles with cows and apples. He shuddered happily. Yummy cows. He'd be looking for the weather to become harsher everyday now. Though there was dark humor behind her tone, Emory smiled sheepishly. How was he supposed react to that? Agree? Was he that unsociable? He couldn't find anything intelligent to say to even a friendly joke. He would definitely need to work on that one. Next thing he knew, others would be finding him walking around the woods talking to himself in conversation, practicing responses to all the question he could think of being asked.
"So, what's your name? I'm Iskata, Matriarch here.."
Oh. She decided to help him out. He was sure in her head, he was like a monk wolf or something. Maybe they'd consider him as Secret Keeper or something. He'd know everything and never say anything. Perfect. But he decided it was due time he'd spoken to the authority in front of him. As she ended her sentence, his ears and tail dropped automatically. Emory was shorter than Iskata in his little wolf form, but he still felt the need to show some sort of submission around his superiors. Eying the sketchy cellar doors, he swallowed, clearing his throat. Not that he'd been talking too much for it to be necessary. Nodding to himself for reassurance, he spoke for the first time in a while, his male voice contradicting hers, blending in with nature's sounds within itself.
"Emory.. my name. It's uh.. Emory. ..Medley."
Confidently, of course.
Word Count: 789