08-31-2018, 03:56 PM
[div style="margin: 0 auto; border: 0%;width:60%;text-align:justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13.5px;"]Bast or Moon might smack Oni upside the head, but that didn't make him anymore lucky with Isidore. His gentle gaze concentrated on the wolf before the younger animal came through, rough and jagged and sharp lipped. It took Dory off guard, his expression slowly hardening as the Fireball spat out his piece, mismatched eyes narrowing as he watched him turn to leave already. "Hey, watch it! Man ... irrespectueux ..." He called back to the younger boy, shaking his head in disbelief. The temper on that one ... a lot different than the others in these parts. Everyone wasn't necessarily so laid-back and casual, but none of them flared up as red hot as that child did. It left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, scolding the kid, because it made him feel ... uncomfortable in his own skin. Reprimands being barked around were something was used to, though at the opposite end of the barrel. But the kid didn't have parents no more, no one to keep him decent, so it was the responsibility of the group as a whole to raise this flock.
Danyla brushing off his offer doesn't make him feel any more relaxed either. His brows stitch in confusion, in concern, fretful ripples across his white face. "Not a waste at all ..." And he wants to offer something else to the poor lupine, but he can't dig up much, trying to catch the tone of voice that Winterwolf speaks in, just like he had with Onision. Though he might not be able to understand the flex of the tongue, he can grasp the intention of the tone, the jaggedness, the spit of malice, or the pillow-y, warm embrace of words. "Really, you're welcome to stay here, Danyla." Isidore reassures again, but now he refrains a little, steps back to offer up a bit more space, not that he'd been too close anyway. It seems, whatever is on the stranger's mind, there's a whirlwind of it, and he doesn't want to apply anymore pressure that isn't necessary.
Danyla brushing off his offer doesn't make him feel any more relaxed either. His brows stitch in confusion, in concern, fretful ripples across his white face. "Not a waste at all ..." And he wants to offer something else to the poor lupine, but he can't dig up much, trying to catch the tone of voice that Winterwolf speaks in, just like he had with Onision. Though he might not be able to understand the flex of the tongue, he can grasp the intention of the tone, the jaggedness, the spit of malice, or the pillow-y, warm embrace of words. "Really, you're welcome to stay here, Danyla." Isidore reassures again, but now he refrains a little, steps back to offer up a bit more space, not that he'd been too close anyway. It seems, whatever is on the stranger's mind, there's a whirlwind of it, and he doesn't want to apply anymore pressure that isn't necessary.
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i wanna wake up now
i wanna wake up now
i wanna wake up now
i wanna wake up now