12-19-2008, 01:28 PM
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"Aha? Head hunter, eh? What a responsibility!" Of course Leland had no idea if the position held any real responsibility or not, but he assumed there had to be some or there would be no need for such a rank. The head hunter had indeed had a lot of work cut out for him in Leland’s old clan, but the clan had been large with nearly fifty some wolves and dogs all sorted together, the head hunter had a lot of organizing to do to feed them all and make sure all the hunts went smoothly. Yet Dahlia de Mai was just a fraction of that size, and Leland supposed that all jobs in the pack, while certainly could have their stressful moment, were far more laid back than what he was use to.
Turning his attention to the sights indicated by Slay, Leland poked his wet nose into the stony surface of one of the graves. Picking up dust and moss, Leland left out a sneeze and turned a sheepish smile to Slay. “I’ve seen these human places before, where they bury their dead. There’s one not too far fra here… Halifax is that big city? Well there’s one ‘round there.” Again Leland thought of the time, as a child, he had accidently dug up human remains and the tongue lashing his mother gave to him. “Why do ya think us canines don’t construct such massive monuments to death?” Even with such a heavy weighted question, Leland couldn’t keep the joviality out of his voice, he ended his question with a deep chuckle.
Looking towards the direction Slay indicated, Leland turned back to him. Of course, the dock was far from seeing distance from here, but Leland loved a good walk. His body was made to plow tirelessly through snow, a leisurely trot would do him good. “I’d love to see the docks, only if ya promise not to throw me in!”
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"Aha? Head hunter, eh? What a responsibility!" Of course Leland had no idea if the position held any real responsibility or not, but he assumed there had to be some or there would be no need for such a rank. The head hunter had indeed had a lot of work cut out for him in Leland’s old clan, but the clan had been large with nearly fifty some wolves and dogs all sorted together, the head hunter had a lot of organizing to do to feed them all and make sure all the hunts went smoothly. Yet Dahlia de Mai was just a fraction of that size, and Leland supposed that all jobs in the pack, while certainly could have their stressful moment, were far more laid back than what he was use to.
Turning his attention to the sights indicated by Slay, Leland poked his wet nose into the stony surface of one of the graves. Picking up dust and moss, Leland left out a sneeze and turned a sheepish smile to Slay. “I’ve seen these human places before, where they bury their dead. There’s one not too far fra here… Halifax is that big city? Well there’s one ‘round there.” Again Leland thought of the time, as a child, he had accidently dug up human remains and the tongue lashing his mother gave to him. “Why do ya think us canines don’t construct such massive monuments to death?” Even with such a heavy weighted question, Leland couldn’t keep the joviality out of his voice, he ended his question with a deep chuckle.
Looking towards the direction Slay indicated, Leland turned back to him. Of course, the dock was far from seeing distance from here, but Leland loved a good walk. His body was made to plow tirelessly through snow, a leisurely trot would do him good. “I’d love to see the docks, only if ya promise not to throw me in!”
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