03-04-2010, 07:33 AM
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WC 896.
Lucia nodded politely toward the coyote, accepting his thanks and trying swiftly to change the circumstances in which she had buried herself in. Staring blankly at the sand, the ebony female tried to recollect her thoughts, her mind racing and her heartbeat echoing in her auds. It had been strange hearing the silent stranger speak, for Lucia had expected his tone a little deeper perhaps, or, well, she hadn't really known what to expect – she was just glad he had spoken, and that the ice was broken. Smiling to herself, her eyes rose to meet the gaze of the male – his expressionless face oddly unnerving at this moment in time, as she had never met anyone like him.
“Forgive me for saying such things--”, she paused - a curious tone in her words, as though she had not figured him out enough, or perhaps, he hadn't really allowed enough knowledge slip. She always did have an obsession with learning, whether it be subjects that helped aid her in day-to-day life, or about the various strangers that crossed her path. Knowledge, in her mind, was a weapon stronger than any knife, gun – or any other instrument that could be used to kill somebody. To her, having the upper hand meant knowing as much as possible about the one who opposed you – and for all intensive purposes, Lucia felt that was the whole world. “--but you seem tense? Is there something bothering you?” She tried to smile again, yet her lips simply curled into a strange half-smile, half-glance of confusion. Realizing this, her face gave way to a blank canvas once more, and her eyes studied the coyote carefully. He was definitely an interesting specimen when it came to personality, Lucia could already tell that, yet her deeper desires were to know why he seemed this way – what made him tick, and what made him so... silent.
Glancing upward, as she awaited some sort of answer to her strange, if not, relatively out of place, question, Lucia noticed the sky had began to fade into a light shade of gray. Drifting over toward the horizon, ocean spilling out as far as the eye could see, she took note of the darker clouds which rolled into their general direction. “Looks like rain,” she muttered quietly, not really including the male, yet allowing it to be heard in case he did want to respond to that as well.
Shivering slightly, another breeze catching her off-guard, the obsidian female turned her attention back to her quiet companion. It was pretty obvious at this point, to Lucia anyway, that conversations were not a daily routine in this male's schedule – as such, Lucia pondered the possibility of if they would ever actually cross paths again after this day. Intrigued by this though, her mind pulled her out of reality and into the winding corridors of her brain; each thought well placed and well plotted – there was an odd sense of fondness developing for the coyote, though she doubted such feelings were in her favor on his side of the fence.
Pursing her lips, Lucia began to speak, though paused soon after – she, in all honesty, had not a clue what she would say. He seemed pretty blunt, small talk being a big thing at this moment in time. In an effort to get away from that situation, Lucia decided it best to push forward – though not as confidently as before. “So, Snake,” a soft whisper to her voice, as though trying to telepathically explain that she was generally nice to have around – trying to avoid all possibilities of showing her, in lack of a better word, nasty temper. “--tell me about yourself?” She began to smile, but stopped halfway through, figuring it better to display her emotions orally and through her eyes, than through literal expressions of smiles, frowns, and so on. “--Do you have a pack? A family? A lover?”
Her tone twisted at the end, a slight shift in her persona. It was very small, yet for anyone who knew body language, or even just the way tones displayed emotional barriers, one would guess that her inquiry of a mate was not, in fact, Lucia's doing. Though, if such a thing was even mentioned to Lucia, no doubt she would blame it on the binges of her younger days – not wanting to admit there was a problem. Denial was something she could master very well, and a lot of time, she never failed to do just that. “Well,” she continued, voice slipping back into a kind-mannered whisper, “what I guess I'm asking is--” she shifted slightly, her muscles rippling under her blanket of fur; her eyes watching closely, as though looking for some kind of reaction, maybe a button to press, or a way to get under his skin. That was the thing about Lucia; she always liked to be remembered, and the best way was to set some sort of impression – good or bad – it didn't always matter, yet in this case, good was the preferred method; she had her doubts about that too though, so she just went with the flow and prayed for a good outcome. “--What's your story?”
WC 896.
Lucia nodded politely toward the coyote, accepting his thanks and trying swiftly to change the circumstances in which she had buried herself in. Staring blankly at the sand, the ebony female tried to recollect her thoughts, her mind racing and her heartbeat echoing in her auds. It had been strange hearing the silent stranger speak, for Lucia had expected his tone a little deeper perhaps, or, well, she hadn't really known what to expect – she was just glad he had spoken, and that the ice was broken. Smiling to herself, her eyes rose to meet the gaze of the male – his expressionless face oddly unnerving at this moment in time, as she had never met anyone like him.
“Forgive me for saying such things--”, she paused - a curious tone in her words, as though she had not figured him out enough, or perhaps, he hadn't really allowed enough knowledge slip. She always did have an obsession with learning, whether it be subjects that helped aid her in day-to-day life, or about the various strangers that crossed her path. Knowledge, in her mind, was a weapon stronger than any knife, gun – or any other instrument that could be used to kill somebody. To her, having the upper hand meant knowing as much as possible about the one who opposed you – and for all intensive purposes, Lucia felt that was the whole world. “--but you seem tense? Is there something bothering you?” She tried to smile again, yet her lips simply curled into a strange half-smile, half-glance of confusion. Realizing this, her face gave way to a blank canvas once more, and her eyes studied the coyote carefully. He was definitely an interesting specimen when it came to personality, Lucia could already tell that, yet her deeper desires were to know why he seemed this way – what made him tick, and what made him so... silent.
Glancing upward, as she awaited some sort of answer to her strange, if not, relatively out of place, question, Lucia noticed the sky had began to fade into a light shade of gray. Drifting over toward the horizon, ocean spilling out as far as the eye could see, she took note of the darker clouds which rolled into their general direction. “Looks like rain,” she muttered quietly, not really including the male, yet allowing it to be heard in case he did want to respond to that as well.
Shivering slightly, another breeze catching her off-guard, the obsidian female turned her attention back to her quiet companion. It was pretty obvious at this point, to Lucia anyway, that conversations were not a daily routine in this male's schedule – as such, Lucia pondered the possibility of if they would ever actually cross paths again after this day. Intrigued by this though, her mind pulled her out of reality and into the winding corridors of her brain; each thought well placed and well plotted – there was an odd sense of fondness developing for the coyote, though she doubted such feelings were in her favor on his side of the fence.
Pursing her lips, Lucia began to speak, though paused soon after – she, in all honesty, had not a clue what she would say. He seemed pretty blunt, small talk being a big thing at this moment in time. In an effort to get away from that situation, Lucia decided it best to push forward – though not as confidently as before. “So, Snake,” a soft whisper to her voice, as though trying to telepathically explain that she was generally nice to have around – trying to avoid all possibilities of showing her, in lack of a better word, nasty temper. “--tell me about yourself?” She began to smile, but stopped halfway through, figuring it better to display her emotions orally and through her eyes, than through literal expressions of smiles, frowns, and so on. “--Do you have a pack? A family? A lover?”
Her tone twisted at the end, a slight shift in her persona. It was very small, yet for anyone who knew body language, or even just the way tones displayed emotional barriers, one would guess that her inquiry of a mate was not, in fact, Lucia's doing. Though, if such a thing was even mentioned to Lucia, no doubt she would blame it on the binges of her younger days – not wanting to admit there was a problem. Denial was something she could master very well, and a lot of time, she never failed to do just that. “Well,” she continued, voice slipping back into a kind-mannered whisper, “what I guess I'm asking is--” she shifted slightly, her muscles rippling under her blanket of fur; her eyes watching closely, as though looking for some kind of reaction, maybe a button to press, or a way to get under his skin. That was the thing about Lucia; she always liked to be remembered, and the best way was to set some sort of impression – good or bad – it didn't always matter, yet in this case, good was the preferred method; she had her doubts about that too though, so she just went with the flow and prayed for a good outcome. “--What's your story?”