- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
Maxim wasn't sure what she meant, for a moment, but as he followed her through the small opening into the building he was sure he understood. The building itself had the scent of habitation to it, of the scent of bodies, dirt and grime, as places that were occupied by squatters generally did. The disrepair of the building and the fact that it was inhabited regardless spoke to the desperation of the people inside. Whether they were physically or mentally ill, a victim of some sort, or simply having a string of bad luck, he couldn't help but feel compassion for them. Only practically, wariness, and a heavy dose of cynicism kept him from believing he had the means to take them all in.
You can't save everyone. It was a sad but inevitable truth.
Outwardly, the wolf was a little quieter than normal but largely unchanged, his expression gone carefully neutral as he observed the space around them. The wary part of him was ready to leap to Madeline's defense when a man approached - a wolf, no less - but it was clear that he meant her no harm. He knew her, it seemed. His distaste towards Maxim, then, was understandable and hardly bothered him.
"Her ride." Maxim answered, with a faint note of humor in his voice but with a serious face. He nodded to the man in way of greeting, with a slight, brief forward dip of his shoulders as if to lower his head to the man. Confident in himself and not prone to shows of ego, he was not someone that felt the need to posture and intimidate when there was no need for it. "Maxim Orwell. Nice to meet you."
You can't save everyone. It was a sad but inevitable truth.
Outwardly, the wolf was a little quieter than normal but largely unchanged, his expression gone carefully neutral as he observed the space around them. The wary part of him was ready to leap to Madeline's defense when a man approached - a wolf, no less - but it was clear that he meant her no harm. He knew her, it seemed. His distaste towards Maxim, then, was understandable and hardly bothered him.
"Her ride." Maxim answered, with a faint note of humor in his voice but with a serious face. He nodded to the man in way of greeting, with a slight, brief forward dip of his shoulders as if to lower his head to the man. Confident in himself and not prone to shows of ego, he was not someone that felt the need to posture and intimidate when there was no need for it. "Maxim Orwell. Nice to meet you."