IP: 71.77.215.83
Posted on March 11, 2014 at 01:57:50 AM by SCALLYWAG
There was little as good to feel the salt air through her fur, but then again, the woods offered refuge from the law-abiding citizens that wished to rise her carcass high for all to see. Perhaps the wench was lucky that this particular wolf didn't clasp her in irons and drag her off for Davey Jones locker. The birds above herself, they were not the fair albatross leading her to treasures. They were false leads and she stood there with mixed signals in her behavior unsure of which way to lean. Pirate charm or harm? It was not clear as to which she should pursue. She was smaller than this wolf that seemed more amused than intimidated. The wench paused, rocking her weight back and forth on her front legs trying to decide whether to dash away or to stay and talk to this creature that was talking in circles. Ears flicked back and forth as she listened, and she growled at the idea that someone would be able to devour her or steal her from her family. "I am many and one. I am the oldest and the youngest." She proclaims herself, truth in everything that she spoke. She was one but her family was not. She was a twin and therefore the oldest and youngest. The scamp had a smart enough way about her that she could keep up with such a playful creature as Mistletoe. "The number matters very little other than I am not alone. I am never alone." The fur on the back of her neck rises up just a fraction but it's enough to make the pale gray creature appear just a little bit bigger. When she was grown, it was clear that she would not be stable. That she took after more of the maddness of Abraxus than the sanity of her mother. It was clear that while intelligent something would never be quite right about Scallywag. She ceases her movement. She advances slowly, her lips falling over her deciduious teeth while the fur at her spine stayed up. "This one is known as Scallywag. The numbers and names of my others matter so little now that you are in my woods. And there are none in these woods that would harm me without risking the wrath of my others." It was not to say that she lacked the idea of self-preservation. It was not to say that she would not identify a threat and preseve her own life. She had seen cougars and bears from safe distances. She knew their scents and knew their tracts far better than any pup raised in the safety of a pack. She knew that life was not safe. But she had inherited her mother's need for the danger, to walk the line and balance herself just so that she felt the heat of death without falling victim. "Those birds. They are lying. Playing selfish games without sharing the prize." She glances up to the birds that circled just behind them. The bitter taste of defeat without battling felt metallic and foul on her pink tongue. She was not a creature that liked to be without whatever it was that she thought be hers by rights. Those foul birds promised plunder and failed to deliver. Should they land, Scallywag had all intentions of showing them just how the wench dealt with those that crossed her. HOIST THE COLOURS HIGH
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