Sinclair was almost two years old. Come spring, he’d be in his second year of training for the Hastati position in Glorall. He was quite proud of his accomplishments in training, though he was sad Tesseract had so little time to give him much attention other than hour of training rather sporadically. He was generally a patient wolf though, and far too respectful of his leader’s duties that to ask for more of his time. Unfortunately, even Sin realized he would have to ask his leader soon for a training session, since it had been a good long while since his last one. The thoughts of his time off caused Sin to feel rather guilty about enjoying sunbathing. Despite the winter chill, the sun still baked some of the rocks in Glorall that were out of the wind.
Perhap’s Sins guilt was the reason for the slight change in the wind’s direction as it ruffled his long, silky fur. With his thick coat, he didn’t feel cold, but the chilling tickle of the breeze caused him to act on his guilt. He rolled over on to his stomach, deciding that since the wind was going to switch direction and thus end his warm sunbath, he should try and make himself feel un-guilty. He stretched his neck and yawned before he nimbly slipped off the flat stone and into the sand. His pads had grown used to the shifting earth, and he no longer stumbled across the beach as he once had as a newly born pup. The beach was, actually, the perfect place to train in balance and endurance. It took quite a bite more effort to sprint across the dry sand than it did packed earth. Maybe he would do a few sprints up and down the beach today.
Sin trotted off towards a starting point some ways away next to a piece of wood that had been tossed ashore. This would serve as his warm up. However, he never reached the drift wood, because he saw the gray form of a younger pup walking along the tide line. Sin paused and raised his head to watch the pup for a moment. He didn’t recognize the wolf and thought for a moment that he was an intruder, but that notion was quickly dismissed when he used his sense of smell. He knew the sent, for it lingered among them. It was a wonder Sin had never thought to look for the wolf that left this scent, but it appeared he would never have to make that decision because here was his opportunity to meet him.
“Hello!” Sinclair greeted the stranger as he trotted up to him, “My name’s Sinclair. What’s your name?” Sin was quite proud that he had mastered the common tongue. It had taken him a long time to become truly fluent to the point where he could keep up with Cersei’s motor mouth, and he felt accomplished in his work for becoming fluent. He didn’t even have an accent with the common tongue (for young minds can adapt so easily)! In the common tongue, his voice held and even note, though it was far from monotonous, and he placed emphasis in the proper places of his words. In Latin, the rhythm of speech was quite different, so it was quite the feat for Sinclair to speak without so much as an incorrect syllable or slur. Not that this pup would notice or probably care awfully much. It just made Sin feel proud to know he was speaking well. |