09-13-2009, 04:42 AM
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OOC: Don't worry about it, school will be doing the same to me starting tomorrow x.x ::Word Count:: 500+
Hope seemed to be rising within the young wolf before her, and for a moment Urma couldn't help but let a wave of relief wash over her. Although nothing in particular tied the young wolf to her, and although many in her position would have found him a setback, due to the urgency she related to reaching Inferni lands, the pale female could not look at Emwe that way. Indeed, the nature of her journey to Inferni was delicate enough, and time had proved over and over again that it was not necessarily on her side. Yet, although she would not have willingly acknowledged this to anyone but herself, she felt a small sense of gratitude for the delay; although she needed to find out what had happened to Pilot, the prospect of meeting any of the coyotes in Inferni made her determinedness dwindle slightly. The fair Crimson Dreamer waited for the young, possibly Dahlian wolf, to filter her words and decide upon them. She hoped that they would ease his unnecessary guilt, as it was quite clear to her that he had done nothing to hurt the bird purposefully.
The innocence in his question startled the blanched femme a bit, not having expected it from a wolf that had almost reached adulthood. It was the kind of question she would have expected Gotham or any of his siblings to ask-- something naive and simple such as that, full of the curiousity characteristic of pups. However, she put this thought aside in favour of a quick decision as to how better to phrase her answer so as to give Emwe no room for interpretation. "No, you weren't mean at all. I think you shouldn't worry about it so much anymore-- everything is okay, because there was nothing really wrong from the start." She smiled sincerely, hoping some of her certainty would brush off on the creamy wolf. He seemed awfully insecure, readily blaming himself for things that he had no reasons to believe should necessarily be his own doing.
This was, however, not the time, nor the right place to be solving puzzles. She knew that the best way she could take Emwe's mind off of the hurt avian was by occupying it with something else. Patiently, she tried asking different questions to herself, to see how they would sound and decide thereafter which she could ask without fear of bringing back the young male's guilt. She opted for a safer, though uninteresting, course of action. "You're from Dahlia de Mai, right?" Her tone was warmhearted, hoping this in turn would help the cream-pelted wolf to relax and put away for a while the issue of the injured bird. Sadly she did not know of anyone in Dahlia yet, and could not continue with a similar question. This loss for a more substantial conversation caused her to feel her one share of guilt. She opened her mouth, hoping some sort of words would flow out for themselves. "I'm... from Crimson Dreams. I don't know if that rings as familiar with you," she finished quite lamely.
The innocence in his question startled the blanched femme a bit, not having expected it from a wolf that had almost reached adulthood. It was the kind of question she would have expected Gotham or any of his siblings to ask-- something naive and simple such as that, full of the curiousity characteristic of pups. However, she put this thought aside in favour of a quick decision as to how better to phrase her answer so as to give Emwe no room for interpretation. "No, you weren't mean at all. I think you shouldn't worry about it so much anymore-- everything is okay, because there was nothing really wrong from the start." She smiled sincerely, hoping some of her certainty would brush off on the creamy wolf. He seemed awfully insecure, readily blaming himself for things that he had no reasons to believe should necessarily be his own doing.
This was, however, not the time, nor the right place to be solving puzzles. She knew that the best way she could take Emwe's mind off of the hurt avian was by occupying it with something else. Patiently, she tried asking different questions to herself, to see how they would sound and decide thereafter which she could ask without fear of bringing back the young male's guilt. She opted for a safer, though uninteresting, course of action. "You're from Dahlia de Mai, right?" Her tone was warmhearted, hoping this in turn would help the cream-pelted wolf to relax and put away for a while the issue of the injured bird. Sadly she did not know of anyone in Dahlia yet, and could not continue with a similar question. This loss for a more substantial conversation caused her to feel her one share of guilt. She opened her mouth, hoping some sort of words would flow out for themselves. "I'm... from Crimson Dreams. I don't know if that rings as familiar with you," she finished quite lamely.
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