#1
backdated to march 14th.
Let me know if you want anything changed Smile


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Here in the forest the light was deceiving. The branches and evergreen needles brawled for their share of sunlight, knowing how perfunctory the summer months were, wanting to claim what was essential for life. If sun rays made it to the ground here, they were filtered and diffused by the greedy foliage enough to create a grey twilight: Jaded as the name in springtime, but grey now, grey and colourless. It was solemnly quiet, with an almost cathedral-grandiose atmosphere amongst the towering pine trunks. The single flash of colour that slipped quietly between them belonged to a young reddish wolf, small and spry, and currently attempting a hunt. On four legs, she was not dissimilar in appearance to the sleeping form ahead. This fact she could not discern, though: all she saw was a blaze of fur, and the smell told her nothing more than the fact it was not prey. Curiosity brought her closer to it, head on an inquisitive tilt. When she judged she was near enough that it would awake at any moment, she murmured politely "What are you?" No reply was expected, not of the vocal form: the creature would get up, though, and then she'd see.


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#2
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He had heard her long before she had spoken. Cael’s sleep was rarely deep. He couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t slept without being distinctly aware of the world around him. Therefore, when the vibrations of the ground changed, he had been pulled from his slumber. There was no outward sign of this, since the weight was not large enough to concern him. Not until a distinctly feminine voice slid into his ears did he give any signs of waking, which was done in liquid time. His head rose, front feet uncurled, and left him in a sphinx like position. “You won’t believe how many people ask me that,” he said, high speech still broken and heavily accented by his own dialect.
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#3
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When her perspective on the mysterious-smelling animal changed as he unfurled, she knew him for what he was: small, canine-like, red and cream like she but smaller to the point that she would have been tempted to treat him like a puppy, or a toy, except then he spoke and her eyes flew open. No longer reverent, she blurted "Oh - do they? I mean, I never smelled a fox before." Otherwise she would have known. Well, of course. She only knew now from some early lessons and descriptions of various fauna. She laid back her ears, unconscious that her flustered expression gave her away as little more than a puppy. "Was that rude of me? I didn't know you could speak." Not in high at least - she knew other animals had ways to communicate, but they did not seem to have what she called language. Neither of her dialects, French and English, at least. Or maybe this was a dream - sometimes talking animals came to you in dreams, she'd heard, to give guidance. Unaware of being intrusive she came a little nearer, nose outstretched, like a curious dog unable to resist inviting the lash of a threatened cat's claw.





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