It would seem that NeMO's life was starting to become a little more... interesting as of late. He had travelled across the border of the packlands more often, no longer hesitating at the line. And although his hackles still bristled with anxiety whenever he was out, he was starting to actually relax more and more. Amber lanterns opened to the sight of day once more as he pinpointed the sound and stench of a hare. The creature was slim, almost no meat at all, but for NeMO, it was a blessing. He hadn't put food within his stomach for at least two weeks now, perhaps more... The Lera was indeed small. When the boy snapped its neck with a quick twist of his ivory jowls, the light went out of it's eyes more quickly than anything he had ever seen. As customary for a bastard such as he, NeMO sent up a thanks to the goddess for the meal and then downed what it had to offer. When only bones and some remnants of it's pelt and organs were left, NeMO did not leave them out to rot. Instead, he buried it, knowing that everything eventually went back to the earth and by putting the dead one beneath the soil, he would be helping even the worms to speed up the process. One can only reap what they sow, after all. There was no need to put extreme effort into cleaning the blood from his face... the lad was a dainty eater and did not make as much of a mess as other vargs his age might.
He left the scene, pale form gliding through the still bare trees as a ghost does-- soundless. Just so happened that that peaceful silence was to be broken by the most shrill of noises. Something that NeMO instinctively wished to shy away from. Being born a bastard, he had been punished for crimes he himself did not commit. Spat upon by others for his mixed blood, which he had not had any say in choosing, NeMO was forced to lead a life of a common dog. One who fetched and sat and did tricks as he was ordered to. The young adolescent paused, pinna pricked towards the sound as it fell into the past and was swept away gracefully by a cold wind. And for some god-awful reason, whatever it was (he sure as hell didn't know), the introvert moved towards the sound. Perhaps it was because females had become less of a threat in his eyes. His interactions with them so far had been mostly good ones. Uncomfortable, but good all the same. But whether or not this was the truth of the matter, not even the piece of trash himself could know. Pondering briefly on the idea of whether or not he was allowed to attend to the borders as he moved, NeMO decided that so long as he did not anger the person, tease them, say something rude or accept them (the latter being the one that would bring forth the most punishment), he came to the decision to keep moving forward. And indeed, the distance was gradually closed between himself the lady who had called.
She was an uncomfortable distance from the border. Even NeMO had stopped two feet before finally crossing. But no.. this one was only a single hair's breath away from the territory line that Cade had set up. He did not reveal himself right away-- instead, he observed the mistress for a few moments, racking his brain to see if he remembered such a woman. When the results did not produce anything, he slid from the shadows as a snake does from it's tunnels. NeMO was still a teen, though he bordered dangerously on the age of an adult now. He had grown into his paws and his fores were slim under his well-cared-for cloak of pearls. No movement from his tassel would hit her eye. NeMO had not even been put to the position of Omega as far as he knew. He was, after all, the lowest of the low. Eyes of russet encircled by gray steel stayed off of her, posing no threat in any way. His listeners were flicked backwards, nervous. He stopped a yard away from her, not from fear of getting too close, but rather for sheer respect. Anyone and everyone, to him, deserved more than he would ever receive. The result of forbidden love knew not of how to greet a newcomer. He had never held an interest in getting another scar upon his skull that was already littered with them. But, he would try, and that was all that he could ever do. It was a step forward. ...It is a favor of the wind to bring souls to Andere.
Strange words, though they held no hatred, anger, malice or ill will. They were simply put, with not even a hint of curiosity to sharpen their edges. NeMO did not judge her based on appearance.. He himself had been judged too many times, unfairly at that, to be in any position to do the same to others. He cautiously allowed his looking glass pools to meet those of her own, and then he went back his uncanny habit of staring at the ground once more. Lord he hoped someone joined him soon so that he may not have to deal with this uncomfortable situation for too long.
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