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Faintly, the handsome young apprentice recognized a few of those that had gathered; and a few not. " Greetings, folks.".
Um.. a museless Sailor looked at that awkwardly, realizing with a pang of sadness that his character was trotting to be cool. " How might ya be?" he yipped, cocking his head.
[size=1]lazy/museless/depressed sorry
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The Museless Sailor would steer his character towards the others whispering be social, I'm sorry please bae while Arnfried ' Arny,' Thatcher, said character, watched with curious eyes as the group began to gather. It was a snail, was it not?
No big deal to.
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track,
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It was a bit dissapointing to some, quite an angry kick in the face. And he guessed some were completely and utterly unhinged on the inside, hiding it away in a chamber deep inside. Arny was just.. ' happy, ' quite literally. He didn't mind the demotions, just the five guys who totally deserved that position came to focus. " Congratulations." he would call, silently sitting down and watching the happening with approving yellow eyes.
[size=1]museless
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" Welcome to Darkclan, Faith." he would greet, a small, warm smile on his face, directed to the newest member. As he padded over, he looked around, and nodding to each Clanmate in turn, as in a silent hello.
[size=1]museless
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" Sir, if you aren't ready to show respect for the dead clanmate, then I suggest you leave, for your own good." the Timber Wolf's tone was cold, stern, with a bit of grief. How dare that insolent welp do such a thing? His yellow eyes, though, betrayed not a thing as he padded over, tail drooping, along with everything else - ears, head, hackles - just looking at the formely living Darkclanner.
Death brought fear, anger, hatred, and complete grief to everyone who knew the dead specimen - and even strangers. It wasn't a good thong to strive for, but it happened.
Arnfreid despised those emotions quite strongly, triying to avoid them. But for his twenty years of being on this earth, the male encountered quite a lot of hate amd grief, but not in this body. It being five months, he had enough time to dodge death.
Until now. Until this one moment, where the death scent was overlapped completely by catnip, where clanmates hardly cared about.. this.
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Meet and greet. The young wolf recalled that, but that was stale on his tounge. Maybe long ago, he had hosted one? Not in this life, at least. Ah, well. Since joining, the canine had gotten over his fear of socializing, going from a simple " Arnfried 'Arny,' Thatcher," to " Hello, what's that? Who might you be?"
...let's be honest? Okay fine, that isn't much. He was still scared and awkward, but he was fitting in a little. A little. Now, Arny slunk over, tail swaying, eyes bright. " Arnfreid ' Arny,' Thatcher, apprentice."
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He cocked his head, not being completely sure if he recognized the clanmate that had spoken, or not. [b]" Really?"
