08-16-2010, 11:06 PM
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hurfhurf
Though his daughter’s voice called after him on the wind, but the Aquila had a task at hand. Every ache in his body magnified tenfold as he left her side. The bad shoulder, the left one, nearly gave out once he had passed beyond her field of vision. Haku had nearly destroyed him. More had aided him in the years before: a black wolf with dark eyes, a golden wolf larger than life, and all those who had come before, during, and after them. Those two were given the most credit. The first had cut his face open, and the second had nearly wretched his arm from its socket. Yet even around his daughter (no, especially around his daughter) Gabriel could not show his pain or his weakness. It was a ruthless, wolf-like need that demanded such a thing.
Gabriel did not need to go far to find food. Inferni’s vast plains were close enough to the caves to serve as suitable hunting ground. Though he had come to prefer the northern forest, there was no time. Instead he chased after large, fat hares, though only two were caught. This number was far from what he had once been capable of. Still, they would do well enough. Carrying the beasts back in his mouth he made his way up to the slope of his den, a simple thing made out of earth that had likely formed out of the elements and been aided along the way.
There were only a few simple spaces within, a main hallway that led to a large family den, a smaller offshoot for supplies, and a third “guest” area that had served several functions in its time. It was the central area he came to, where a small hearth had been made out of stones. It was close enough to suck the smoke out of the entrance, but just deep enough in to warm the space in the winter. “Sorry about that wait,” he apologized, dropping the hares to the ground.
“If you don’t mind waiting longer I can try and cook them.” Unlike his father, Gabriel was hardly a master chef—cooking for him entailed essentially charring everything and leaving the insides raw.
Though his daughter’s voice called after him on the wind, but the Aquila had a task at hand. Every ache in his body magnified tenfold as he left her side. The bad shoulder, the left one, nearly gave out once he had passed beyond her field of vision. Haku had nearly destroyed him. More had aided him in the years before: a black wolf with dark eyes, a golden wolf larger than life, and all those who had come before, during, and after them. Those two were given the most credit. The first had cut his face open, and the second had nearly wretched his arm from its socket. Yet even around his daughter (no, especially around his daughter) Gabriel could not show his pain or his weakness. It was a ruthless, wolf-like need that demanded such a thing.
Gabriel did not need to go far to find food. Inferni’s vast plains were close enough to the caves to serve as suitable hunting ground. Though he had come to prefer the northern forest, there was no time. Instead he chased after large, fat hares, though only two were caught. This number was far from what he had once been capable of. Still, they would do well enough. Carrying the beasts back in his mouth he made his way up to the slope of his den, a simple thing made out of earth that had likely formed out of the elements and been aided along the way.
There were only a few simple spaces within, a main hallway that led to a large family den, a smaller offshoot for supplies, and a third “guest” area that had served several functions in its time. It was the central area he came to, where a small hearth had been made out of stones. It was close enough to suck the smoke out of the entrance, but just deep enough in to warm the space in the winter. “Sorry about that wait,” he apologized, dropping the hares to the ground.
“If you don’t mind waiting longer I can try and cook them.” Unlike his father, Gabriel was hardly a master chef—cooking for him entailed essentially charring everything and leaving the insides raw.