08-09-2009, 06:48 PM
[html]
He snorted softly at her words, amused by her light-hearted tone. "Maybe," he replied, own voice growing with amusement. "But you could always get a pair of gloves." Jael was attempting to draw the conversation to a lighter air as well, aiming to forget the anger that had permeated his tone only moments before. Here maybe in the forests she blended in perfectly, as wolves were meant to do, but Jael was made for colder climates and snowier regions. His pale coat was perfect camouflage in the northland, but not here, save in the cooler, harsher months. “Here I always stick out like a sore thumb,” he answered quietly, silently referring to more than just his frigid appearance. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing within Inferni, and never really belonged anywhere. Wolves even outcasted him because of his pack alliance, ostracizing him for nothing more than choosing to reside in the only place he actually knew he had family.
It was ridiculous, and yet maybe some souls were just destined to be alone right from the beginning, forever outside the reach of others. Perhaps it was some sort of penance for sins of a past life, coming back to haunt him now when he could remember nothing he’d done wrong to warrant such treatment. Either way, he was a loner, destined for solitude unless he found some strange creature who didn’t mind his company, and that he found himself comfortable around. Peering around the city, he slowed his pace slightly, inquiring lightly, “Do you even know where to find paint here?” The city was large and foreboding—Jael had no clue where to find paint supplies in this huge, relentless place and could only hope the girl knew better than he did.
[/html]
He snorted softly at her words, amused by her light-hearted tone. "Maybe," he replied, own voice growing with amusement. "But you could always get a pair of gloves." Jael was attempting to draw the conversation to a lighter air as well, aiming to forget the anger that had permeated his tone only moments before. Here maybe in the forests she blended in perfectly, as wolves were meant to do, but Jael was made for colder climates and snowier regions. His pale coat was perfect camouflage in the northland, but not here, save in the cooler, harsher months. “Here I always stick out like a sore thumb,” he answered quietly, silently referring to more than just his frigid appearance. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing within Inferni, and never really belonged anywhere. Wolves even outcasted him because of his pack alliance, ostracizing him for nothing more than choosing to reside in the only place he actually knew he had family.
It was ridiculous, and yet maybe some souls were just destined to be alone right from the beginning, forever outside the reach of others. Perhaps it was some sort of penance for sins of a past life, coming back to haunt him now when he could remember nothing he’d done wrong to warrant such treatment. Either way, he was a loner, destined for solitude unless he found some strange creature who didn’t mind his company, and that he found himself comfortable around. Peering around the city, he slowed his pace slightly, inquiring lightly, “Do you even know where to find paint here?” The city was large and foreboding—Jael had no clue where to find paint supplies in this huge, relentless place and could only hope the girl knew better than he did.