08-14-2008, 03:26 AM
36. Precious
"I know who you are," The wild girl said leaning across the unused table, propping herself up so he was forced to look up into her amber eyes, "You are the son of Astinvere."
Balkar stared back at her, uncomprehending.
She hefted herself off the table, kicking on of the chairs out of the way before she began stalking across the room. Her movements were unnatural to her human form as she moved close to the floor. Long legs pulled her across the room faster then he would have thought someone could get as they crawled. She slinked away to the other side of the room where she pulled open a large chest. She peered over her shoulder, "Come here."
Balkar rose cautiously from his seat and walked across the room, his hand remained on his sword, weary of anything that might happen.
From the chest she had pulled out a length of white fur that she held close to her, her own unnatural honey hair showed vibrantly next to it, "I know you're his son," she said as she took in a deep breath, "You smell the same."
Slowly she pulled herself to full height, stopping only a short moment as her knees unbent, as if it hurt. She swung the fur around his shoulders, resting an old wolven head over his own like a hood. "These skins were once as common as my race, but the Jagerian have destroyed all but a few remaining. Astinvere was always our pack leader, even when he married the human," She looked away shortly, "You are his son, it is your place to wear it."
"Thank you."
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