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+--- Thread: [ACCEPTANCE] Oshiete (or how to make a weeb cry in 4 syllables or less) (/thread-3501.html)
Oshiete (or how to make a weeb cry in 4 syllables or less) - -Laurel- - February 03, 2018
ooc:
![[Image: W9yplDW.png]](https://i.imgur.com/W9yplDW.png)
Who the fuck did you want me to be?
Was it something that I couldn't see?
Was it something that I couldn't see?
To be honest, Laurel... didn't know how to live on her own. As child, she'd been surrounded by others, grew up with "siblings" she hated. And true, she'd hated them and in turn they'd hated her, but there had been an odd sense of comradery in that, an understanding, an order. A place. Being on her own, meant she didn't have that. And, continuing with this honesty trend, Laurel didn't understand why she was alone, not fully. Just.. one day she was biting the hand that fed and next...
The next day, they were chasing her out into the dark, rising sun with spear and flame, and Laurel had snarled and snapped with every step. And that was months (years?) ago, but her mind played it over and over in her head like a record stuck on loop, a scene she could recall like it had happened yesterday. Another failure, another mask shattered. She wondered, once all those masks cracked, what would be left of her? Did she have anything else? Was she anything else? Or was she has fake as the things that she needed to be and to be seen as? She didn't know, and right now, she didn't have time to care.
When man pushed her out to her death, they called her things like "mutt" and "mongrel", but they'd forgotten the one thing her littermates made sure she remembered: she was more. She was the outcast, the one that didn't fit. She'd been wilder, rougher, dangerous. She was wolf, under the doggish frame, under the slinking, wagging tail and pinned ears, the friendly willingness she'd begrudgingly portrayed to survive in a world that barely wanted her. Wolves survived, no matter the environment they found themselves in. Dogs laid down and died when things got a little tough.
Surviving, for her, meant having a place, meant surrounding herself with the familiar, meant following her nose until she found the scent of others like her, no matter what that meant. Oddly enough, it meant finding a little corner of the world where the brisk smell of sea air swam in the wind, teasing her with shores off in the distance. She'd never seen an ocean before, and that was enough to peak her curiosity. If that meant putting on a show to be able to do that, she would.
Maybe, she'd hate it a little less this time.
Pack scent was strong, here, and Laurel knew better than to intrude, so she waited, short legs pacing in a betrayal of her anxiety. They could just as easily run her off, there was nothing stopping them from kicking her to the curb, and something in her didn't like the idea of that. Something in her was drawn to this place. Here, she thought, she could find out how she belonged.
The next day, they were chasing her out into the dark, rising sun with spear and flame, and Laurel had snarled and snapped with every step. And that was months (years?) ago, but her mind played it over and over in her head like a record stuck on loop, a scene she could recall like it had happened yesterday. Another failure, another mask shattered. She wondered, once all those masks cracked, what would be left of her? Did she have anything else? Was she anything else? Or was she has fake as the things that she needed to be and to be seen as? She didn't know, and right now, she didn't have time to care.
When man pushed her out to her death, they called her things like "mutt" and "mongrel", but they'd forgotten the one thing her littermates made sure she remembered: she was more. She was the outcast, the one that didn't fit. She'd been wilder, rougher, dangerous. She was wolf, under the doggish frame, under the slinking, wagging tail and pinned ears, the friendly willingness she'd begrudgingly portrayed to survive in a world that barely wanted her. Wolves survived, no matter the environment they found themselves in. Dogs laid down and died when things got a little tough.
Surviving, for her, meant having a place, meant surrounding herself with the familiar, meant following her nose until she found the scent of others like her, no matter what that meant. Oddly enough, it meant finding a little corner of the world where the brisk smell of sea air swam in the wind, teasing her with shores off in the distance. She'd never seen an ocean before, and that was enough to peak her curiosity. If that meant putting on a show to be able to do that, she would.
Maybe, she'd hate it a little less this time.
Pack scent was strong, here, and Laurel knew better than to intrude, so she waited, short legs pacing in a betrayal of her anxiety. They could just as easily run her off, there was nothing stopping them from kicking her to the curb, and something in her didn't like the idea of that. Something in her was drawn to this place. Here, she thought, she could find out how she belonged.
RE: Oshiete (or how to make a weeb cry in 4 syllables or less) - Iaera - February 06, 2018
![[Image: cv4TX4u.png]](https://i.imgur.com/cv4TX4u.png)
|✬| gemini |✬|
the nymph; whisper & ranger
the nymph; whisper & ranger
Belonging was a strange thing, it was a choice or a natural reaction. One could argue that belonging was made from will and others from finding your place. Considerably though it could be a combination of both, you find your niche and you choose to belong. Iaera had seen those that were not suited for here that stayed, and she saw those that were suited for here that left in the winds. For all things considered, she imagined she belonged here in the odd sanctuary that was Gemini. No longer a fool she had seen and heard the violence but the pack had shaped her and she did not flinch away from it; she had seen worse as well. She was a piece now, and the more she gained some semblance of confidence, the more she hoped it was an important piece. The little wolfdog had lived so much of her life without belonging, and now that she belonged she felt the need to do it right.
Aela was gone, she had not seen Francisca lately, as far as she knew most of the acceptances must have been handled by Livid, and Sybella. The smell on the border was clear. More and more of the Rangers seemed to be disappearing, though thankfully it appeared that pack members were showing interested in the rank. As much as she preferred the Whisper rank, it always seemed there was more Ranger work to do. Iaera sighed as she paced the border, her paws were dusty from running the same track over and over. The Ranger had worn it so far down that there was now a physical representation of much of the Gemini border. It brought a slight smile to her face but she remained otherwise stoic, violet eyes listless as she moved around Gemini. The Ranger popped her lips to amuse herself as she moved cloaked in shadow-- her cloak and hood as black as night--.
Today however it seemed that fate and fortune and karma and whatever other divine powers were available had something interesting for her. Of course she didn't know that, and depending on how things worked, she might not immediately. The woman felt no strange sense in her gut, no mystical force calling to her, the sibling siren song was dead silent. Mute. Or gagged; the wolfdog did not have siblings, littermates maybe, but no siblings. None had been there for her and her mother, least of all her brother who let them be mauled before he abandoned his puppy love crush. If she had been thinking of him she would have bristled and bared fangs, but thankfully her mind was numb and blank; only the mind of the omnipotent considered such things. The strange smell hit her nose and while there was a twinge of recognition it was not strong enough to define anything important to Iaera.
There paced a woman with blacks and grays and tans like Iaera but she thought nothing of it. After all her colors were common, very common in the world of natural coloration. Violet eyes took in the taller woman's red hues before shucking the hood off her head and moving to face her. "You are on Gemini's borders, do you need assistance?" Sister like sister, Iaera had never seen the ocean either until coming to Gemini. What a strange thing.
Aela was gone, she had not seen Francisca lately, as far as she knew most of the acceptances must have been handled by Livid, and Sybella. The smell on the border was clear. More and more of the Rangers seemed to be disappearing, though thankfully it appeared that pack members were showing interested in the rank. As much as she preferred the Whisper rank, it always seemed there was more Ranger work to do. Iaera sighed as she paced the border, her paws were dusty from running the same track over and over. The Ranger had worn it so far down that there was now a physical representation of much of the Gemini border. It brought a slight smile to her face but she remained otherwise stoic, violet eyes listless as she moved around Gemini. The Ranger popped her lips to amuse herself as she moved cloaked in shadow-- her cloak and hood as black as night--.
Today however it seemed that fate and fortune and karma and whatever other divine powers were available had something interesting for her. Of course she didn't know that, and depending on how things worked, she might not immediately. The woman felt no strange sense in her gut, no mystical force calling to her, the sibling siren song was dead silent. Mute. Or gagged; the wolfdog did not have siblings, littermates maybe, but no siblings. None had been there for her and her mother, least of all her brother who let them be mauled before he abandoned his puppy love crush. If she had been thinking of him she would have bristled and bared fangs, but thankfully her mind was numb and blank; only the mind of the omnipotent considered such things. The strange smell hit her nose and while there was a twinge of recognition it was not strong enough to define anything important to Iaera.
There paced a woman with blacks and grays and tans like Iaera but she thought nothing of it. After all her colors were common, very common in the world of natural coloration. Violet eyes took in the taller woman's red hues before shucking the hood off her head and moving to face her. "You are on Gemini's borders, do you need assistance?" Sister like sister, Iaera had never seen the ocean either until coming to Gemini. What a strange thing.
![[Image: f7Tqbvl.png]](https://i.imgur.com/f7Tqbvl.png)
RE: Oshiete (or how to make a weeb cry in 4 syllables or less) - -Laurel- - February 08, 2018
ooc:
Who the fuck did you want me to be?
Was it something that I couldn't see?
Was it something that I couldn't see?
The funny thing with ghosts, is that they don't just haunt places. There aren't wraiths that patrol a lonely harbor, or a curious shadow peeking behind a gravestone. A ghost isn't always a little girl attatched to a doll or a teddy bear. Sometimes, ghosts haunt people.
And sometimes, that ghost is alive.
A broken soul will look for its missing pieces in just about anything, even if that soul has been shoved down for the greater good. For her part, Laurel had done a damn good job not falling apart at the thought of her ghosts. It's harder when one of them is staring her in the face.
She didn't notice it at first, when a figure cloaked in black came up to greet her. Laurel had only recognised a wolf, shorter than her, but not by much, a pair of purple eyes peaking out under the hood that concealed the newcomer's features. It is here that this stranger would witness something interesting: an actress slipping into her role. Laurel shed her uncertainty like an old skin with practiced ease and stepped into something more confident and stage-ready the moment she knew eyes were on her. The pacing stopped, any crease in brow that had been there was gone, smoothed out to something decidedly more friendly. Head high but not dominant, posture confident but not forward or pushy, so far removed from feelings of uncertainty or turmoil it was like it had never happened. All that was left was selling herself like she had done before. This, Laurel could do.
And then the stranger before her shucked the hood from over their head, and Laurel met her ghost, or, one of them, and she felt a hairline fracture in her mask. Her eyes would squint just slightly, a beat of recognition thrumming in her heart just long enough for it to mean something. Suddenly, Laurel didnt feel like she was looking at a stranger.
"You are on Gemini's borders, do you need assistance?"
There were differences. This woman was paler than her children, her ghosts. There was age around her eyes and the voice she had wasn't that of a youthful girl. But there was enough there to make Laurel feel haunted. Enough there that it was difficult to push down. It wasn't important, at least, not now. Later, when she was alone.
Still, it took her a while for her to form words, brain muddled with both memories she had and memories she felt like she should have. And even then, Laurel's voice cracked.
"I- um. I seek refuge in, Gem.. Gemini? You said?" Laurel paused, trying to recollect her thoughts, her feelings, her mask. "I'm sure I can be of use, if you worry about that. The... group I was associated with before had me do many things."
And sometimes, that ghost is alive.
A broken soul will look for its missing pieces in just about anything, even if that soul has been shoved down for the greater good. For her part, Laurel had done a damn good job not falling apart at the thought of her ghosts. It's harder when one of them is staring her in the face.
She didn't notice it at first, when a figure cloaked in black came up to greet her. Laurel had only recognised a wolf, shorter than her, but not by much, a pair of purple eyes peaking out under the hood that concealed the newcomer's features. It is here that this stranger would witness something interesting: an actress slipping into her role. Laurel shed her uncertainty like an old skin with practiced ease and stepped into something more confident and stage-ready the moment she knew eyes were on her. The pacing stopped, any crease in brow that had been there was gone, smoothed out to something decidedly more friendly. Head high but not dominant, posture confident but not forward or pushy, so far removed from feelings of uncertainty or turmoil it was like it had never happened. All that was left was selling herself like she had done before. This, Laurel could do.
And then the stranger before her shucked the hood from over their head, and Laurel met her ghost, or, one of them, and she felt a hairline fracture in her mask. Her eyes would squint just slightly, a beat of recognition thrumming in her heart just long enough for it to mean something. Suddenly, Laurel didnt feel like she was looking at a stranger.
"You are on Gemini's borders, do you need assistance?"
There were differences. This woman was paler than her children, her ghosts. There was age around her eyes and the voice she had wasn't that of a youthful girl. But there was enough there to make Laurel feel haunted. Enough there that it was difficult to push down. It wasn't important, at least, not now. Later, when she was alone.
Still, it took her a while for her to form words, brain muddled with both memories she had and memories she felt like she should have. And even then, Laurel's voice cracked.
"I- um. I seek refuge in, Gem.. Gemini? You said?" Laurel paused, trying to recollect her thoughts, her feelings, her mask. "I'm sure I can be of use, if you worry about that. The... group I was associated with before had me do many things."
RE: Oshiete (or how to make a weeb cry in 4 syllables or less) - Iaera - February 14, 2018
|✬| gemini |✬|
the nymph; whisper & ranger
the nymph; whisper & ranger
Seeing eyes saw, but she blinked the sight away for another time. The change in expression, body language; fake it. The wolfdog was familiar with the idea behind it so she let it pass with little suspicion given how uncertain Laurel had looked previously. Iaera was not the creature she had once been, perhaps with one on the subject of ghosts, it could be asserted that her past self probably haunted her new self. Iaera was an actress too, so much so she'd taken on the role of her previous method acting. Unfortunately for her, her method acting was not always nice. Gemini was a sanctuary but it was not a soft home; for all her flowers and gentle speech. Disillusionment and gratefulness had blinded her for some time but she saw the skulls on the wall, the boy in the pit. She saw the fear of Saboro and the cracks in the people. She saw greed and pettiness and participated in it as well-- Iron and Sybella. Iaera told herself that she was still a good person and she hid behind the belief she was just playing tough.
Ultimately speaking, she was a good person still. She just wasn't a weak one. The wolfdog had yet to realize that those weren't hand in hand with each other.
But when the cloak's hood slid from her face, Iaera saw it. Pain and recognition; a flash of that weakness again before the crack was filled up with whatever Laurel could fill it with. An easy breath slipped from Iaera's soft lips and she settled to sit in front of Laurel with a faint buzzing in her own head. Why did this woman recognize her? Why did she seem hurt? Of all the things Iaera had done to harm others, she was certain she had done nothing to harm this woman. Yet the feeling of familiarity tickled her too, and the Ranger shifted and cleared her throat as she waited for this woman to speak in reply. Emotion was powerful though, true emotion, especially when one wasn't a solid method actor. All the posture faded away, the confidence soaked back into her like a sponge away from the exterior. Whatever smile was on her face probably dropped off the face of the earth and Iaera saw it all. And felt nothing for her except the recognition that she was also that way. Where was her sympathy? Something internally would not allow it, some fail safe was clicking into place, doors locking and vault handles spinning.
Iaera's mind knew what Iaera did not.
The woman's voice broke and violent eyes twitched in the closest thing to empathy she could offer. She remembered meeting Aela at the border, being scared and lonely and having no solid English skills. Was it because this woman was a wolfdog too? The Ranger closed her eyes softly and let her mind rattle around as she listened to Laurel halfheartedly. Iaera recognized she was not herself and could not figure out why. Refuge. Refuge. Refuge. It repeated in her head like a scratched record; if only they knew. No skills, not a single discerning one, the Ranger was familiar as she had said the same thing. The small woman sat still with her eyes closed, once upon a time this would have frightened her to no end-- perhaps the violence enacted upon trespassers and violent offenders soothed her soul. The gray and tan was no pacifist anymore. "Gemini is refuge to many, it takes all in." Her tone was dead, disinterested.
But she would not allow herself to handle another acceptance like Carol's acceptance had went. Iaera had too much resolve in proving she was a good woman.
Though she could not find it in her to act accordingly. "What group were you associated with? What sorts of jobs did you do for them? We take all of many skill levels but I can better assist you if I know where to start."
Ultimately speaking, she was a good person still. She just wasn't a weak one. The wolfdog had yet to realize that those weren't hand in hand with each other.
But when the cloak's hood slid from her face, Iaera saw it. Pain and recognition; a flash of that weakness again before the crack was filled up with whatever Laurel could fill it with. An easy breath slipped from Iaera's soft lips and she settled to sit in front of Laurel with a faint buzzing in her own head. Why did this woman recognize her? Why did she seem hurt? Of all the things Iaera had done to harm others, she was certain she had done nothing to harm this woman. Yet the feeling of familiarity tickled her too, and the Ranger shifted and cleared her throat as she waited for this woman to speak in reply. Emotion was powerful though, true emotion, especially when one wasn't a solid method actor. All the posture faded away, the confidence soaked back into her like a sponge away from the exterior. Whatever smile was on her face probably dropped off the face of the earth and Iaera saw it all. And felt nothing for her except the recognition that she was also that way. Where was her sympathy? Something internally would not allow it, some fail safe was clicking into place, doors locking and vault handles spinning.
Iaera's mind knew what Iaera did not.
The woman's voice broke and violent eyes twitched in the closest thing to empathy she could offer. She remembered meeting Aela at the border, being scared and lonely and having no solid English skills. Was it because this woman was a wolfdog too? The Ranger closed her eyes softly and let her mind rattle around as she listened to Laurel halfheartedly. Iaera recognized she was not herself and could not figure out why. Refuge. Refuge. Refuge. It repeated in her head like a scratched record; if only they knew. No skills, not a single discerning one, the Ranger was familiar as she had said the same thing. The small woman sat still with her eyes closed, once upon a time this would have frightened her to no end-- perhaps the violence enacted upon trespassers and violent offenders soothed her soul. The gray and tan was no pacifist anymore. "Gemini is refuge to many, it takes all in." Her tone was dead, disinterested.
But she would not allow herself to handle another acceptance like Carol's acceptance had went. Iaera had too much resolve in proving she was a good woman.
Though she could not find it in her to act accordingly. "What group were you associated with? What sorts of jobs did you do for them? We take all of many skill levels but I can better assist you if I know where to start."
RE: Oshiete (or how to make a weeb cry in 4 syllables or less) - -Laurel- - February 22, 2018
ooc:
Who the fuck did you want me to be?
Was it something that I couldn't see?
Was it something that I couldn't see?
In the end, she had to close her eyes, the sight of the woman before her too much, too familiar. An impassive mirror image of something she felt she should remember but couldn't. Laurel missed motherhood, but not enough to believe she'd been given a second chance, and as her head cleared she knew a few things with certainty.
Her children would never know who she was. That alone was comforting, in a way. They would not know the pain of losing a mother, as she knows the pain of losing them. Likely, they were treated well.
Laurel also knew that this woman before her was around the same age as her, for what that meant. They likely had vastly different experiences, but Laurel could hear it in her voice: neither of them were all that naive.
Thirdly; above all else, this had to go well. Laurel would very well be fine if this woman saw her lacking and turned her away, despite her assurances that Gemini accepted many. Laurel would find a way to live, if that meant being on her own a little longer, then so be it. But she'd rather not have to, and that meant convincing Iaera that she wasn't a threat, and wasn't a freeloader, either.
What came after, when she could allow herself the time to think, Laurel could figure out why her heart ached so badly at the sight of the wolfdog before her.
When she opened her eyes, her head was much clearer, she felt more in control of her emotions than she had since coming upon Gemini's borders. She watched as Iaera sat, chose to remain standing for the time being, too smart to make it look like she was too comfortable around strangers.
Laurel pondered how much she wanted to share with the stranger. Would Iaera think her soft if she told her she'd been raised amoung humans? Would she garner sympathy is she said she had been nothing more than a project? Would the other be suspicious if she learned that she'd been cast out after it all?
"I grew up with dogs. I was one of the few to have wolf's blood." Laurel wanted neither, so she decided, perhaps, it was best to go with half truths. "I was allowed to assist with hunting, occasionally. I was taught to watch for threats and stand guard over their families, and they made sure I was equipped to handle those threats. My birthpack would host sparring matches to test our strength and such."
The others had learned to fear her. Laurel had justified her ferocity with the knowledge that they'd made her that way. You can't blame a cornered animal for lashing out, after all.
Her children would never know who she was. That alone was comforting, in a way. They would not know the pain of losing a mother, as she knows the pain of losing them. Likely, they were treated well.
Laurel also knew that this woman before her was around the same age as her, for what that meant. They likely had vastly different experiences, but Laurel could hear it in her voice: neither of them were all that naive.
Thirdly; above all else, this had to go well. Laurel would very well be fine if this woman saw her lacking and turned her away, despite her assurances that Gemini accepted many. Laurel would find a way to live, if that meant being on her own a little longer, then so be it. But she'd rather not have to, and that meant convincing Iaera that she wasn't a threat, and wasn't a freeloader, either.
What came after, when she could allow herself the time to think, Laurel could figure out why her heart ached so badly at the sight of the wolfdog before her.
When she opened her eyes, her head was much clearer, she felt more in control of her emotions than she had since coming upon Gemini's borders. She watched as Iaera sat, chose to remain standing for the time being, too smart to make it look like she was too comfortable around strangers.
Laurel pondered how much she wanted to share with the stranger. Would Iaera think her soft if she told her she'd been raised amoung humans? Would she garner sympathy is she said she had been nothing more than a project? Would the other be suspicious if she learned that she'd been cast out after it all?
"I grew up with dogs. I was one of the few to have wolf's blood." Laurel wanted neither, so she decided, perhaps, it was best to go with half truths. "I was allowed to assist with hunting, occasionally. I was taught to watch for threats and stand guard over their families, and they made sure I was equipped to handle those threats. My birthpack would host sparring matches to test our strength and such."
The others had learned to fear her. Laurel had justified her ferocity with the knowledge that they'd made her that way. You can't blame a cornered animal for lashing out, after all.
RE: Oshiete (or how to make a weeb cry in 4 syllables or less) - Iaera - March 03, 2018
|✬| gemini |✬|
the nymph; whisper & ranger
the nymph; whisper & ranger
The Ranger sighed, she watched as the woman seemed to be upset and squeeze her eyes closed for a few moments before returning to their conversation. Was she that horrible of a vision? Some part of her deep down found humor in that and a slight smirk moved her lips. That she must be so horrendous this acceptee couldn't bear to lay eyes upon her. It was not something she would normally find to be humorous but here she was. The little wolfdog was vaguely aware that she was not herself, not as she should be, she watched herself behave oddly as if she was watching herself on TV. It was not the first time she had felt this way, but she never found solace in knowing that chances are she would go back to normal-- she had so far--. She simply did her best to not make Laurel think that it was her that was causing the Ranger to be so down; so she hid it.
The strange recognition did not leave the wolfdog but she pushed it down. Iaera had seen many on her travels and it could very easily be that she had encountered this woman back when she was too fearful to come out of the shadows and meet others. But the red eyes... Her little nose twitched slightly and she quickly brought up a paw to pretend to scratch at it, hoping it would be convincing enough that this woman didn't think she was making faces. But the colors... Were common. Very common. She blinked it away and waited for the newcomer to register her questions and reply. It felt like decades of waiting too. Part of her wanted to motion with her paw to hurry up but she knew that wasn't right and yet it felt like her skin was crawling to break this silence and finish this acceptance and go home. Her breathing was stressed for a second but she regained herself, noticing the other woman decided not to sit. It made her feel slightly threatened but she did not move from her position.
Another flicker of recognition turned into a burning flame when she mentioned she'd been raised around dogs. This time she couldn't control all of her expression and her little snaggle-tooth escaped further past her lips, "I do hope you had a better time with dog packs than I did..." It was very revealing of her opinion, but it was not a criticism, that much was obvious from her tone. As much as Iaera hated dogs, she didn't wish that suffering on others, her hope was sincere. Perhaps though, she was wrong to hope. Who knew. As Laurel continued to talk Iaera nodded, she wasn't unfamiliar with the situation, it seemed that this wolfdog certainly had it better than she had had in the village with her Mother. After all, Iaera had been "too wild" to be trusted with such things. Interesting given how her sister looked so much more like a wolf than she.
"Did you enjoy it with the dogs and the humans?" It was pretty clearly implied by Laurel there was humans, Iaera rarely knew of dog packs that existed successfully without man. "Why is it you are no longer with them?"
The strange recognition did not leave the wolfdog but she pushed it down. Iaera had seen many on her travels and it could very easily be that she had encountered this woman back when she was too fearful to come out of the shadows and meet others. But the red eyes... Her little nose twitched slightly and she quickly brought up a paw to pretend to scratch at it, hoping it would be convincing enough that this woman didn't think she was making faces. But the colors... Were common. Very common. She blinked it away and waited for the newcomer to register her questions and reply. It felt like decades of waiting too. Part of her wanted to motion with her paw to hurry up but she knew that wasn't right and yet it felt like her skin was crawling to break this silence and finish this acceptance and go home. Her breathing was stressed for a second but she regained herself, noticing the other woman decided not to sit. It made her feel slightly threatened but she did not move from her position.
Another flicker of recognition turned into a burning flame when she mentioned she'd been raised around dogs. This time she couldn't control all of her expression and her little snaggle-tooth escaped further past her lips, "I do hope you had a better time with dog packs than I did..." It was very revealing of her opinion, but it was not a criticism, that much was obvious from her tone. As much as Iaera hated dogs, she didn't wish that suffering on others, her hope was sincere. Perhaps though, she was wrong to hope. Who knew. As Laurel continued to talk Iaera nodded, she wasn't unfamiliar with the situation, it seemed that this wolfdog certainly had it better than she had had in the village with her Mother. After all, Iaera had been "too wild" to be trusted with such things. Interesting given how her sister looked so much more like a wolf than she.
"Did you enjoy it with the dogs and the humans?" It was pretty clearly implied by Laurel there was humans, Iaera rarely knew of dog packs that existed successfully without man. "Why is it you are no longer with them?"