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When I make it ashore it is all I can do not to jump clear out of my skin myself when my howl surprises a white ghost out of the shoreline brush. Gray and white, he is just right in colors to have hidden on the shore. “O-oh boy, I'm sorry,” he says, and I am sure he is about to shake himself clean out of his own hide. Scared? Scared of me?
I have to look up at him and still he seems terrified of me, stammering and carrying on in a way that almost makes me feel bad for something I cannot even know I’d even done. “I-I mean, you s-sprayed water on me, but that's okay. I was definitely in your way. M-my name is Nord, it's nice to meet you. Again, my fault. I am so sorry.” The wolf says, introducing himself and dropping some of the submissive gestures that make her so uncomfortable. My head tilts at him, confused, but entertained that someone so big could be so thrown off by the smallest sort of wolf imaginable (to her).
The day, the swim, it all has me invigorated. It has me well enough in the head that I can say with certainty that this Nord fellow has simply got to enjoy it with me. I lay down, fidgeting my paws, laying my head down so that it shuffles each time I talk.
“Sorry about the wet, yea? I’m Paisley.” My accent is nothing that I have heard since coming here, it is a product of my home. It is the voice that comes with peete, with moors, with rain and green. I miss it there, that old place, sometimes. “Thought I’d come an’ see what it’s all about here.”.
the little lass of nowhere
female | 4 years | 23 inches | 63 pounds | no mate | no imprint
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