Castle Ruins

Augustus · 11-02-2011, 10:25 AM

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ooc: The slightly condensed version...:/

Augustus

Augustus was relieved to be forgiven. He bowed his head slightly, offering the slightest hint of a smile. The ends of his lips pulled upward for a brief moment before retreating back to their normal line. He let his eyes wander about. The castle ruins no longer seemed as ominous as they had before, and the water near them was playing a gentle melody. He held himself higher, but not in dominance. He didn’t feel like slouching anymore. She was smaller, but her actions said nothing about his size. She must not be afraid. Any reason for her to be had vanished, and he felt happy in the knowledge that things would no longer be so tense between them. He did not reprimand his initial conduct, however, it was fitting for an injured wolf not wishing to be troubled. If he’d come across someone with darker intentions, they would, mostly likely have been turned away. His father had taught him something after all.

“Still…Thank you.” He said again firmly. He wouldn’t let it’s meaning fade, and he did mean it. He got up and circled the ground a couple times before settling himself down in the grass. It was getting cooler, but he didn’t mind remaining out for a little while longer. If he got up now, it would undoubtedly be seen as rude, and he didn’t want to give her that impression. His black rimmed ears twitched as she spoke. He felt himself tense a little. He studied her for a moment, wondering how he should begin, and if he should begin at all. He sighed softly and rose to his feet. This was not a conversation for laying down.

He licked his lips and looked idly to the ground, the memories too fresh to be said whilst looking her in the eyes. “I wasn’t always a loner…I was in a pack before, my father’s pack. We lived far off from here, Yukon, I’ve heard it called, but we thought of it by other names. For most of us, though, it was just ‘home.’ I thought the same thing for a while… He paused a short moment, his eyes darkening. There weren’t as many…Luperci settlements there, and we rarely saw or heard of them. Game was plentiful for us, but it was colder- colder than here. My mother was from the Arctic, there, there are no Luperci. It was good for her…My father hated them, he told us to hate them, too. He said that they practiced black magic, and sacrificed non-Luperci, to their gods. Then, one day, when I was young- hardly out of the den, my brother was snatched by the Luperci. I won’t forget that day. My father took me aside and said to me “Son, remember this day…Remember what they took from you.” And, like a good son, I remembered. His tone had became darker now, hints of anger ebbed out in a low growl. He drew in a breath and cleared his throat.

Time passed, and I started to grow up. My father hardly bothered with me, my mother came to me only occasionally. The pack, and the land itself were my teachers. They taught me how to hunt, how to hide, and how to fend for myself. I’d often wander alone through our territory. I was doing so when one night I heard my father’s howl. He was calling us to a meeting. I came as quickly as I could, curious. I was the last to arrive, as if it had been planned… His brows furrowed and he continued in an increasingly angrier voice.

My father pointed me out, and everyone parted before me, like I was something wicked. He was talking nonsense. I don’t quite remember what he was saying, it was all a blur. But all of sudden they started snarling and growling at me. I saw my father coming towards me and he slashed me across the face, saying to me “You are no son of mine,” Then…they were chasing me. The faster ones bit at my flanks, but I hardly felt it. They stopped just beyond the borders, but I kept running. Before I knew it…I was here..He refused to look at her, unsure how she would react, instead he sat in silence, waiting anxiously.

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