07-28-2009, 11:12 PM
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mall-caps;color:#555555;line-height:10px;">i am picking at remains of other lives
and watching colors and tragic looking passerbys.
Jael briefly wondered if this man was mad, smiling so cheerfully and wagging his tail as though he hadn’t a single care in the world. He introduced himself and grinned widely, acting as though the pale wolf were less than indifferent toward their entire encounter. Charon, as he stated he was called, seated himself on the ground as though expecting an extended conversation, and Jael could only peer at the stranger in absolute wonder. Perhaps he was high as a kite.. or simply daft—maybe even completely and utterly ignorant, raised in seclusion and had yet to learn how harsh the real world was outside of his cozy home life. One simply didn’t run up to a stranger all smiles and sunshine, grinning like a madman and holding out their hand. Charon comment on his arctic appearance, assuming the youth was also from the northland. While his mother may have been, Jael had seen nothing of the frigid landscapes and arid mountaintops where her blood originated from.
“My mother was artic,” he replied, allowing himself to fall into conversation with this bizarre man. “But I’ve never been that far north myself.” The heat did get to him at times, with his thick, wooly coat even in the summertime that was meant for cooler climates. And he stuck out horribly against the verdant, colorful landscape so overgrown with plant life when his snowy camouflage was meant for paler, icier regions. “I’m Jael, by the way. Where are you from, anyway?” he inquired, loath to make idle chit-chat with strangers, but he didn’t find he minded this man all that much, despite his overly outgoing exterior. He seated himself as well, curling his tail around his side and regarding the artic creature with fire-hued eyes.
and watching colors and tragic looking passerbys.
Jael briefly wondered if this man was mad, smiling so cheerfully and wagging his tail as though he hadn’t a single care in the world. He introduced himself and grinned widely, acting as though the pale wolf were less than indifferent toward their entire encounter. Charon, as he stated he was called, seated himself on the ground as though expecting an extended conversation, and Jael could only peer at the stranger in absolute wonder. Perhaps he was high as a kite.. or simply daft—maybe even completely and utterly ignorant, raised in seclusion and had yet to learn how harsh the real world was outside of his cozy home life. One simply didn’t run up to a stranger all smiles and sunshine, grinning like a madman and holding out their hand. Charon comment on his arctic appearance, assuming the youth was also from the northland. While his mother may have been, Jael had seen nothing of the frigid landscapes and arid mountaintops where her blood originated from.
“My mother was artic,” he replied, allowing himself to fall into conversation with this bizarre man. “But I’ve never been that far north myself.” The heat did get to him at times, with his thick, wooly coat even in the summertime that was meant for cooler climates. And he stuck out horribly against the verdant, colorful landscape so overgrown with plant life when his snowy camouflage was meant for paler, icier regions. “I’m Jael, by the way. Where are you from, anyway?” he inquired, loath to make idle chit-chat with strangers, but he didn’t find he minded this man all that much, despite his overly outgoing exterior. He seated himself as well, curling his tail around his side and regarding the artic creature with fire-hued eyes.