Long, black colored arm flexed, as if tiring with the stationary position its master kept it. Heath made a fist, though not in anger or agitation but only to feel the tight strong muscles. Maybe it was used to feeling flesh against its dark knuckles at this point of the conversation. Heath rarely got away with trespassing, but he was beginning to find that this place, and its King were very different. Heath had no idea he was about to hear how very “different” everything really was. He was shocked as the other male touched his shoulder, clasping his large paw around its firm shape. Then the rusty dog-man was close, enough that they shared the air they breathed.
And then it started.
A far off place, south and humid and unbearable. Strays, savaging in cities without the security of packs. Pirates, ships, storm and then tragedy. The details whirled through the coyote hybrid’s mind, and old leaky tub, tempests and then! The shocking amputation of the dog’s arm. Everything bubbled in the young males mind, and Heath knew for certain how Jacquez Trouillefou because so eccentric. Heath frowned, but then at the last few words that the king spoke a smile crossed his gray molted face. How such a thing could be true? Heath found that he didn’t much care, for the facts were quite clear. He was here, arm lost by some way or another, finding a home with a few faithfuls. One that Heath had already met...
Quite a story. The male spoke, though not in skepticism but in honesty. Quite a story. And lucky to find your “follower”. Heath smiled at the image he let form in his mind. Jacquez… The male spoke, the smile still crossed over his face. Heath felt energized by the male’s story, not holding the chill he once felt towards the leader. If I had know I would be around royalty, I would’ve brought a gift. The city is stock piled with goods, and liquor. Gold eyes looked to see if he would be moved by the idea.