She was on to him by the time his burnt golden silhouette emerged into the northwestern corner of her vision. A snort blows abruptly from her tight, flared nose and one solid foot strikes at the ground. His approach is practiced, she gathers, he is smooth and dauntless. The evidence of his run wafts over her sensitive olfactories and she bends an ear, ready to hear him speak because clearly he is going to, as her ear bends backward she leans and takes a step in tentative retreat to his approach.
“Self-preservation.” She answers, turning her head to examine him with only one of her golden-glass eyes and tipping her forelock off to the other side. She does not include her name but notes his, absorbing the shapes, curves and colors of his image – taking in what small details and landmarks that mar his buckskin coat. This will come in handy later, she ponders internally; Magnus.
Her eyes snap quickly to gather the sounds of more feet coming their way and soon to follow the sound is the stranger himself. Everyone is out hunting today. The blue of his sharp gaze found hers and she let it stay as he came to stand politely beside Magnus. Clearly they’re familiar with one another. Let does not relax her posture even as she examines the waves of gray and the vibrant crest of purple coloring new male’s fur. Ruan. His name is filed away and her eyes sip at his details just as she did with Magnus just moments before.
“My name is Let.” she exhales, switching her gaze between them. “And I need a home.” her ears fall nonchalantly back, but do not pin. “Tell me about your homes, then.” Her tone is rigid, but milky, the tenseness still sharpening the edges of her words.
@Ruan @[magnus]
| i was born sick,
BUT I LOVE IT. |  |