She had never taken on an apprentice before, but by the gods she didn't think she ever would again if they all performed as abysmally as this one.
Adam was terribly lazy, unwilling to listen to her wisdom concerning life in general, had an attitude problem, and misused his growing seer power to identify insects of all things, and chat with the surrounding wildlife freely as if all were interested enough to be his friend. Elaine, ever strict and ignorer of making friends with possible prey, couldn't see the sense of it all. Apparantly a few whacks on his head did little to stave the little one's attempts to befriend whatever happened to be breathing and in sight at the time. It was bittersweet for the jungle wolf to have a way to vent violent impulses yet still suffer the boy's presence afterwards - not that Elaine abused Adam, but by the gods sometimes she just wanted to . . .
. . . take a walk. That was all. Walks were refreshing, solitary, and healthy. It wasn't at all based upon wha tthat adolescent said about clearing her head of preconcieved notions about the world outside her personal Garden of Eden. The world hadn't been kind to her family, and now sheh ad found a place to call home. Why temper this nice balance of danger and peace, safety and utter danger, quiet enlightenment and raw bestiality? She had walked that fine balance all her life now it felt . . .
Elaine knew not what a mentor should or should not do, but for sure she wanted some time away from the pup, to allow Adam to follow his own extreme curiosity to wherever it led him. He seemed at least to be taking to the jungle a bit, though mention of the cannibals always put him edge; thus, sometimes Elaine brought them up just to mess with him - the rare occurance of her dark sense of humor. Adam wasn't amused.
"Hmm . . . what do we have here?" She noted in the soft soil were pawprints - it took her a moment to realize there were two sets, perfect pawpads marred by delicate and thin trails that created scars. How odd. Sometimes the local cannibals carried feathers, but these did not match any of the wolves' scents. Frowning, dark strands of hair beginning to fall into her eyes, she picked her head up, tossed the mane to one side, and decided to investigate this little anomaly. Perhaps it would kill more time to find out who had lost themselves in the jungle now.
Adam was terribly lazy, unwilling to listen to her wisdom concerning life in general, had an attitude problem, and misused his growing seer power to identify insects of all things, and chat with the surrounding wildlife freely as if all were interested enough to be his friend. Elaine, ever strict and ignorer of making friends with possible prey, couldn't see the sense of it all. Apparantly a few whacks on his head did little to stave the little one's attempts to befriend whatever happened to be breathing and in sight at the time. It was bittersweet for the jungle wolf to have a way to vent violent impulses yet still suffer the boy's presence afterwards - not that Elaine abused Adam, but by the gods sometimes she just wanted to . . .
. . . take a walk. That was all. Walks were refreshing, solitary, and healthy. It wasn't at all based upon wha tthat adolescent said about clearing her head of preconcieved notions about the world outside her personal Garden of Eden. The world hadn't been kind to her family, and now sheh ad found a place to call home. Why temper this nice balance of danger and peace, safety and utter danger, quiet enlightenment and raw bestiality? She had walked that fine balance all her life now it felt . . .
Elaine knew not what a mentor should or should not do, but for sure she wanted some time away from the pup, to allow Adam to follow his own extreme curiosity to wherever it led him. He seemed at least to be taking to the jungle a bit, though mention of the cannibals always put him edge; thus, sometimes Elaine brought them up just to mess with him - the rare occurance of her dark sense of humor. Adam wasn't amused.
"Hmm . . . what do we have here?" She noted in the soft soil were pawprints - it took her a moment to realize there were two sets, perfect pawpads marred by delicate and thin trails that created scars. How odd. Sometimes the local cannibals carried feathers, but these did not match any of the wolves' scents. Frowning, dark strands of hair beginning to fall into her eyes, she picked her head up, tossed the mane to one side, and decided to investigate this little anomaly. Perhaps it would kill more time to find out who had lost themselves in the jungle now.
