Weaving a story of pity

[Dawali Amara]

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Word Count: 317 Dawali waited as something ahead seemed to stir, and as the person came closer his head very nearly jerked backwards in surprise. What a sight, the male who now approaching him, with all those scars and a strange leather collar around his neck. The male's face showed no emotion, and Dawali would easily have assumed him a threat, had it not been for the familiar scent of AniWaya on his pelt. Ayegali knew better than to let the unsafe live among them. He looked like a soul who had seen more suffering than Dawali could imagine, because those scars could not possibly have come from battle, the sub-leader suddenly realized. In the shifting light of the torch, with darkness creeping in and fighting that little spark, the male looked truly intimidating. He said nothing as he approached him, but when he stopped a dark voice grumbled out his name. Mahlouk? A strange name, for a strange wolf. He presented himself in third person, too, although that could be custom. For a male so young such as this Mahlouk, he bore heavy burdens on his back. Though his body and face could be perceived as threatening, Dawali had relaxed by now, but was puzzled. In a perverted way, he wished to know what had made the scars, but of course this was the business of the male before him, and him alone. Uncertain about what to say, Dawali quickly gave Mahlouk the greeting he gave everyone - a tip of the face, pointing his nose downwards, and keeping the position for about two seconds. Once his head was upright again, the red wolf spoke, quietly and in a kind voice. Nice to meet you, Mahlouk. Pausing, Dawali threw another glance onto the male's scars, and the weirdness of his eyes, before he continued. You are a new face, I can see that. When did you join our ranks?

Awesome sexy table and avatar by Kat! [/html]