4:20

Shandom Qi'Vaex · 01-31-2012, 07:50 PM

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Oh, Shandom...

Word Count: 708+

The life of a wanderer was clearly still in his blood; the man was restless.

It had never been unusual for the alabaster man to wander around Etienne in his youth; when pack-members wanted to find him, it was either a long, arduous process involving lots of loud howling and scenting, or they simply asked Lea where he'd wandered off to. Typically, she'd have an answer - He's by the river, or He's scouting the borders - do you want me to find him?. That is, if they could find Lea and not Shandom. It was so uncommon for the pair to be separated in their early days! He couldn't help but dwell on it. Whenever he was stressed, or feeling slightly unproductive, thoughts of Lea clambered to the forefront of his mind, screaming for attention and making his life significantly more complicated.

It was these thoughts that sent him to the borders and slightly beyond; Shandom had been patrolling in his favored four legged form. When he decided that absolutely nothing exciting was happening in New Dawn's borders today - or so he hoped, he wouldn't want to leave them unchecked - the man skulked behind a tree and decided to shift into the strange, bipedal form he'd frequented less and less as of late. Despite having the virus for nearly three years, the sensations were still bizarre. The strangest transition was that of his forepaws into things called hands; if he could have had these hands in all forms, though, he would have been quite all right with it. They came with nifty devices called thumbs, and it made grasping things without the use of his teeth all the simpler. Shandom knew the cracks were loud in the winter air, and he grimaced a bit. He hated these moments of vulnerability, when he knew he could be attacked and do absolutely nothing about it.

At least it was over quickly. For some reason, Shandom was talented at shifting forms; the transition took him only several minutes, where for others he knew it to be a lengthy process. Crouched still on all fours, the man slowly straightened to his new, impressive height - well over seven feet tall, and while not as broad as others, still blessed with lean, obvious muscles. The scarred gentleman flexed his hands and stretched out his legs, shaking an untamed mane from his eyes. He had long abandoned his eye patch, assuming it was scattered somewhere between the Court and here; he forsake it when he decided to live a 'normal' life.

Breaking into a brisk jog, Shandom moved away from the borders, though he did not have to go far before he changed course. A smile broke onto his lips when he caught the scent of Naniko, the woman he met in the woods several weeks prior. She'd managed to catch him in a rather embarrassing situation and help him out of it, and then he learned she was the mother of the lovely Caprica. It was strange, meeting the dark woman's mother - the two were so opposite in coloring that he never would have guessed it had he not been directly informed. There was another, younger smell with her, and Shandom assumed it had to be one of her children, though he could be wrong. He soon came upon her, and a curious scent wafted through the air to greet him; it wasn't wolf, nor was it any tree he'd ever smelled - it appeared to be coming from the thing between her lips that was... Wait, was that thing smoking?

The man let out an especially undignified yelp as he flat out ran to Naniko and the child, concern prevelant on his scarred features. What was she doing? Was this some strange form of suicide? Naniko! he barked, drawing closer and closer to her until....

He fell over a root.

Of course.

Shandom lay in the dirt for the briefest of moments, utterly mortified. You seem to always catch me in the most compromising of positions, the male grumbled, quickly kneeling up and dusting off his torso. But it is a pleasure to see you again, even if I do make myself to be utterly incompetent at walking.

Table by Aly, code by the Mentors!

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