Word Count » 284
Short post is short; I should have a better word count in replies to follow.
Slade Auctor
Since his visit to the gravesite near that other pack, Slade hadn't been up to all that much. Likely the wolverine's attack was accountable for it, as he hadn't felt like doing much after being virtually mauled, but after a few weeks he thought he needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and get out of his den for a while. The place was looking worn and old, anyway, and he didn't feel like fixing it.
As the coyote usually did when he needed a break--not that he was finding something wrong with Cercatori, since things had been relatively calm lately as far as he was concerned; he simply needed a new atmosphere--he stepped outside the territory and started a slow but even trot around Ethereal Eclipse. He thought he picked up a familiar scent near the border, as if someone he knew had been there recently, but he dismissed it, not able to recognize it and honestly not caring.
He left the land in the morning. The temperature was cool for a day in early summer, though there were some clouds in the sky to excuse the lack of heat. Still, it was humid, and as a long-furred coyote Slade had learned to favor the winter days even if his paws did get a bit frostbitten.
Weather was such a dull thing to think about when he was taking a leisurely stroll. Slade's mind began to wander, subconsciously starting to attempt forming a story, a typical act of his wild imagination. He had gotten much better at not letting his mind control his actions when it was caught in a world of fantasy, and managed not to throw himself into another odd situation.
nekkid post is nekkid and I'm sorry for being so long ^^''
Valinta wandered idly, brushing her palms against the trees as she passed them. The female could imagine she heard them whispering things to her, but she had also been slightly sick lately, and a bit out of it. Of course, hallucinations were nothing new for the female. She thought she saw her mother's ghost when she was drunk, so obviously she had a few issues that needed to be worked out.
But it didn't matter, because she was back in Canada. It was lovely as ever in her old home, and Valinta couldn't for the life of her think of a reason for leaving. Of course, the problems in Cercatori d'Arte had been terrifying, true, but other people managed to stay, didn't they? Valinta kicked herself mentally for being a coward, then again for being self-deprecating.
Valinta scented something familiar, just barely. It was... coyote? Walking swiftly to the source, she saw a friend of hers, a storyteller of great skill. Quirking her lips in a small smile, Valinta walked up and fell into pace with him. Slade appeared to be lost in thought, probably coming up with a story as he was apt to do. "Is it good?" she asked softly, wondering what the story was this time.
Word Count » Don't care
I changed my mind about longer posts, I just want to move this thread along so posts will probably be short.
Slade Auctor
Valinta LeStrange was the last wolf Slade had expected to meet on his walk, especially since as far as he was concerned she was still wounded, possibly dead along with her relatively sensible son Gunnar. Recently, however, his life had actually started to get relatively exciting, and today was apparently no exception.
He almost missed her question, lost in his thoughts as usual, but he did pick up her voice and it only took a quick sniff of the air to tell that it was his not-so-old wolf friend. Her son didn't seem to be with her, but the surprise of just picking up Valinta's scent made him completely forget about Gunnar. Instantly Slade turned in the direction of her voice, and couldn't help but smile and wag his tail. Even if they hadn't met frequently, they still knew each other fairly well, and that was enough for him. "Valinta! I was beginning to think that you were dead. Where have you been? I'm not trying to sound nosy, I was just wondering; I have no idea what's going on in the pack nowadays and was starting to think you died!"
Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned his relationship with the pack, and the way he excitedly stated "you died" wasn't the best greeting, but much like his imagination often did his excitement overwhelmed him and he had started to spill out words. The coyote couldn't help feeling glad to find out a friend was alive.
Valinta smiled at Slade's excitement to see her. It had happened a few times; people had missed her when she'd left it appeared. Other than stroking her feminine ego, it also astounded her at the loyalty of people she didn't know thought of her as a friend. A few chance meetings, though, were enough for some people. Just being by them and offering company made lasting impressions on them, and the darkly-furred she-wolf assumed that Slade was one of them.
At his excited babble, Valinta began to chuckle, the sound rumbling from her chest. It reached a darker note once Slade mentioned the possibility of her being dead. "Dorogoĭ, I thought I was dead at one point. It was a bad time for all of us in the pack." She murmered thoughtfully. He didn't know what was going on in the pack anymore? The poor boy. It was sad when someone so loyal as Slade didn't know what was going on in his own home.
"It won't be like that in my pack.." she said to herself, thinking about that very pack.
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Slade was determined not to let the mood die at Valinta's reply to "you died," but fortunately she saved him from having to try to start a conversation--something he had always been absolutely terrible at, no matter who he was talking to. In fact, she made his eyes widen in curiosity when she mentioned her pack. Oh, so she wasn't a member of Cercatori anymore? He suppressed a small sigh of annoyance. Usually his lack of information didn't bother him much, but in cases like this, he was ridiculously annoyed. Maybe nobody else knew that he and Valinta had met, but still, it would have been nice to hear about it. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if Cercatori d'Arte was still his home, but he shoved the thought aside.
"Your pack?" he asked, tilting his head. The coyote's tone wasn't challenging, simply inquisitive. Was there another pack who laid claim to the lands? Was he trespassing? He briefly wondered if territory had already been established, but he would have been able to tell that from scent... right?
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Word Count →
Totally forgot about this, but her accent gets increasingly thick the more Russian she speaks. It's been peppered through her dialogue in a few threads, so it's a moderately thick accent. Atm she sounds aloof and slightly bitchy because of it. (not that that's new)
The woman nodded, not surprised Slade asked. He was better at making stories than making conversationg, something she enjoyed immensely. Why bother with a pathetic conversation when you can enjoy stories of a brave hero's dashing deeds, harrowing adventures, and the inevitable happy ending? She had always considered it odd that people would, but some did. She herself did not.
"Da, moĭ paket. My pack." she added the English, realizing belatedly that in Canada, Russian wasn't one of the main languages. She looked at Slade and smiled. "It is about family. I refuse to believe that families would leave others in the dark. If they have lyubov -- love -- then they wouldn't." She nodded again, quite enjoying the sense of responsibility and authority being the leader of a future pack gave her. Like having a child, only greater. It really was like being a family.
"We need members though." Valinta admitted grudgingly. "There is only a few of us. I'm worried that we might end up disbanding..." The female would feel terrible if they disbanded, having invested so much of her spirit into forming it. There had already been blood, sweat and tears involved with the creation, and so much of it as well. Why waste all of it? She hoped fervently it would be created.
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Word Count » 320
Valinta should get into the advertising business. Forgot to make this short but oh well!
Slade Auctor
Slade had managed to ignore the single word in Valinta's speech that wasn't English, but when she began using it slightly more frequently he could only hope that, if she continued talking like this, she would keep giving translations. Just don't start rambling in... whatever language that is?
Fortunately, as Valinta went on to answer his inquiry, she used English. Slade was interested to hear her comment about leaving "family" members "in the dark"; maybe she had left Cercatori for that reason? Again the thought came over him that doubted his true roots to the pack he had first joined. Was Valinta suggesting that the pack had no love for him? He could hardly think this over before she threw on another statement: there weren't many members in this forming family.
The realization hit Slade like a brick wall, which immediately put an end to his tail wagging and puppy-like curiosity. She was trying to recruit him. He hadn't been in a situation like this before; he had joined Cercatori d'Arte out of his own free will and had never been in a pack prior. Nobody had ever bothered trying to recruit him, and he could honestly understand that. He was a Lupus; he couldn't even write. The best he could do was chase down measly rodents with his bare paws, and yet here was Valinta, suggesting that he join her pack in the makings. He wasn't sure whether to be touched, confused, or doubt her common sense.
After blinking a few times--as if it would help straighten his thoughts--Slade decided to take a less direct approach to his response. Valinta hadn't explicitly asked him to join the pack. Maybe it was a misconception and she wanted him to tell his loner friends--as if he had many--about it. For the sake of formulating an answer, Slade went with this idea as he responded with a question. "What's the pack called?"
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Forgot to make this short but oh well!
