the state of my severed hands
#10
ooc: It's fine with me. We can fade after this post. I'll close it out.

Kansas continued his explaination, sounding out each of the various letters along the title. Softly, as much to himself as aloud, Moose voiced the letters echoing his teacher. The thick brogue of the mottled grey male marred his letters, frustrating him. Aye, ehh, ai, oh, yew... As near and dear as the accent was, it became rather annoying at times like this. Well, these times and the times where no one has a clue what he is saying.

His brow creased in concentration and his tail wagging at learning, Moose cut quite the odd figure. Eventually he would get the hang of this reading thing. He understood that practice makes perfect and it takes time to learn the subtlties of a skill. But why was he, again, so far behind his packmates? Day by day he found himself lagging, and working harder to compensate, bothered by the fact they seemed to be able to give so much more than he could even think about to his new found family. Pushing the thoughts away, he focused on his enunciation of the letters Kansas presented him with. "Ta-oh Ke-ai-el-el Ah...."

{END OF THREAD}


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