01-23-2020, 08:32 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 60%; line-height: 100%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]A hodgepodge. Who knew what she was getting into. Virgil found comfort in the presence of people who looked like her and thought like her. This was better than nothing, perhaps. Much as Aurum seemed to make an effort, Virgil wasn’t so dumb as to not pick up on the sarcasm. She knew condescending ... she just, never expected to be the one subject to it. Granted, she had never done bad things, and for all her steadfast loyalty to her pack, there had been moments of doubt. Some people whispered that there was a brother in every generation, who was slaughtered and the leaders used his blood to bathe his sisters. Or when her astute littermate Togo pointed out that the wounds from Bismarck’s neck didn’t resemble the powerful rip and tear of a lion, but that of a painted wolf. It seems strange to me, Virgil. I saw them giving her nasty looks in the days up to it. Bismarck was always a bit more cool-headed than her sisters.
Well Virgil, she had never gotten caught up in the conspiracies of it all. She just didn’t want her throat torn out. Her leaders gave her a will and ideal to live for and in return, she had offered her loyalty. Even though she had gained some sort of lowly position in this group, she wasn’t sure compassion and pity were ideals she felt worth living. After some thought, she supposed that these qualities were what saved her life just now. Aurum ... was difficult to find him anything other than charismatic, even if he did bear the stench of maleness.
Eulogy, on the other hand, she was finding more insufferable than Aurum’s little guard-hyena. “The feeling’s mutual.” She rumbled, irritated that she was being forced to put on good behavior in order to keep her place in the group. Virgil’s golden eyes flickered back to Aurum, brutally stung by the irony (again, how many times would she be slapped in the face with subverted expectations?) that her new second in command was an animal of the species that had killed her former. “You must really despise me, I’m sorry.” The lycaon whispered to herself under her breath. “I suppose I’ll need someone to show me the best places to get food ...” She responded in a tone that gave off the impression that her mind was somewhere else, distant. “Th — hmmgh!” She cut herself off with a grunt, clearing her throat. Aurum was really difficult to dislike. She had almost caught herself saying “thank you” to a male.
Well Virgil, she had never gotten caught up in the conspiracies of it all. She just didn’t want her throat torn out. Her leaders gave her a will and ideal to live for and in return, she had offered her loyalty. Even though she had gained some sort of lowly position in this group, she wasn’t sure compassion and pity were ideals she felt worth living. After some thought, she supposed that these qualities were what saved her life just now. Aurum ... was difficult to find him anything other than charismatic, even if he did bear the stench of maleness.
Eulogy, on the other hand, she was finding more insufferable than Aurum’s little guard-hyena. “The feeling’s mutual.” She rumbled, irritated that she was being forced to put on good behavior in order to keep her place in the group. Virgil’s golden eyes flickered back to Aurum, brutally stung by the irony (again, how many times would she be slapped in the face with subverted expectations?) that her new second in command was an animal of the species that had killed her former. “You must really despise me, I’m sorry.” The lycaon whispered to herself under her breath. “I suppose I’ll need someone to show me the best places to get food ...” She responded in a tone that gave off the impression that her mind was somewhere else, distant. “Th — hmmgh!” She cut herself off with a grunt, clearing her throat. Aurum was really difficult to dislike. She had almost caught herself saying “thank you” to a male.