Creating new laws,

[Salem D'Angelo]

Ugh, tell me about it. My chest burns with fire every time I cough. ._.
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Of course, that panic went into a temporary overdrive the moment he went from looking at the shape of her body—a curvature not unlike his mother's, so she was definitely female—up towards her face, where his gold-green eyes met her warm amber. Salem let out a shaky but silent breath into the cold air, not quite catching the way that put a scant film over things as it rose and faded away. But the look on the unfamiliar woman's face was not a mean one and when her posture dropped to something welcoming and apologetic, he felt at more ease by the time she had asked him for his name.



“Hi,” he returned lamely for starters, smiling tight-lipped but with a wave in his tail. “I'm S-Salem, it's nice to meet you,” was his stammered out answer, clearly proving just how awkward he was around new faces, but at least he wasn't manner-less. Salem wasn't even necessarily as shy as he was young and afraid of getting caught somewhere that he probably shouldn't have been. A certain air about her persisted to itch his nose out of memory, though he couldn't place what it was that was familiar about her. It had been some time, long enough to become a distant memory as far as a child was concerned, that he had encountered someone from her pack.



But as long as she didn't call him polly-wog, he wouldn't turn tail.

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