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I thought it was fine! no need to apologize! ^^
[size=xx-small]actually, I feel like I've been writing you into a corner, and if that's the case, 1,000 apologies![/size]

There – a wag of his tail, a shake of his head – Goldry saw it again: that eagerness for kinship coloring Vehiron's words and actions. He didn't think it was just an act; or, if it was, it was too obvious, too benign. His behavior was so abstract and friendly, but so reluctant that it felt genuine. Goldry wanted to trust that proverbial olive branch, yet he felt a sting of suspicion again. Was Vehiron really prepared to share something close to his heart with him, an almost perfect stranger? And simply because he'd asked? Did his potential friendship really mean that much? He wanted to know; he wanted that insight. To get it, he decided to play it out. He couldn't put up walls just yet. Goldry curved his ears back and grinned. He nodded as Vehiron dismissed his apology, and he stepped back a little from the edge so they could both share the space. His eyes softened as Vehiron expressed his wish to start a family, then they grew softer still as Vehiron paused on the precipice of an answer to his second question: prove himself to whom? A dark and gloomy look fell over the black wolf. He looked crestfallen and suddenly very alone. Goldry said nothing, but he felt almost sorry to see Vehiron like that. When his voice broke, Goldry glanced away, frowning. An inglorious past? Goldry looked back a half-second after Vehiron did. He looked back and saw some sort of desperate, dispirited expression. Vehiron had a face of longing. One that hungered for the forgiveness it knew it could not have. Goldry's frown deepened, whether out of pity or distrust, he himself didn't know. But when Vehiron sighed, Goldry knew the moment had passed and he needn't decide why his own heart felt heavy. He looked away, flicking his ears and grinning again as Vehiron admitted his reason for living was in the hope of doing good. Goldry thought it paralleled his own sentiments almost poetically. “You don't have to apologize, you know,” he said after a brief pause, ignoring, for the moment, how Vehiron had tried to pass him the figurative torch. Vehiron seemed to have a lot he wished to apologize for; Goldry, however, let his words hang on the cold air without elaborating. “I'm afraid my past isn't glorious at all, one way or the other.” He cracked a smile. “I left my pack to start a family, but my homeland just isn't a safe place. Someone told me it was peaceful once, before they started hunting us – humans, I mean...” Goldry glanced up at the indistinct and hazy moon. “But, that time has long since gone.” He watched his breath curl away in the mist, then he looked back at Vehiron with his agouti face untroubled. “So I came here. Searching for that peace.”

Table by Noire