in the end we still pretend.

Harlowe D'Angelo · 07-15-2010, 06:32 AM

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GOD WHAT A SKANK OMG I'm ~3 weeks late yeeeeeyeyeyeee ;D

The tawny-furred youth had attempted hunting quite a few times—and in most cases, he'd been ridiculously unsuccessful. The biggest thing he seemed to be able to kill himself was a mouse, and he was generally a failure in trying to capture anything else—for the most part, he had existed on the kindness of others, depending on his aunt Pontiac or his more successful siblings to bring him food. The creamy-furred youth would have done anything for just a sliver of meat right about then—his thirst could be momentarily forgotten, as his mouth watered with just the slightest hint of food on his mind.

He closed his jade-colored eyes and leaned his head against the tree slowly, intent on resting for a few minutes now. Maybe something would stumble across his lap in a stupor and he could get lucky—unlikely, but one could always hope. He was still and silent, and after a few moments, he began drifting in and out of sleep, half-napping against the tree in this unfamiliar forest. Quite a few minutes later, a voice roused him rather suddenly, though it was one Harlowe would never startle at—he knew his the sound of his father quite well by now, and he smiled broadly, infinitely relieved. “Father!” he said, scrambling up to his feet. “I got lost. I was trying to come and see you,” he said, peering awkwardly at his feet. He was embarrassed at having failed in this simple task—a wolf of his age should have been able to navigate the world far more easily.

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