10-19-2010, 05:31 PM
And while speaking of returns... a new ebony wolf, had sprinted towards the Valley that had adopted him. The bulky Secui form was abandoned for the regular wolf--he had to move fast. It had been some time since he left the Valley to return home--the pangs of homesickness had plagued him, even though he knew that nothing would be left of his beloved Boston. Still, he had to see. He had to be sure that the city really did sink through the soft marshland that had made up the bulk of the landscape that the old city was built on. Like Atlantis from the human folklore, Boston had sunk into the ocean, taking everything with it.
Home truly was gone. But Michael had a new one: The Phoenix Valley. And this home was hospitable, comfortable, and benevolent. Maybe with time, the ebony-furred wolf would come to love this place just as much as Boston. But nothing could ever replace your roots, and when those roots are taken away... you just have to make do with the best you've got.
He found the Whilom that had first introduced him to the pack. He knew he had been gone for sometime, so he approached as if he was a new pup: head lowered, eyes downcast, ears at half-mast, and his tail tucked between his legs, but not so much to make one assume fear.
Home truly was gone. But Michael had a new one: The Phoenix Valley. And this home was hospitable, comfortable, and benevolent. Maybe with time, the ebony-furred wolf would come to love this place just as much as Boston. But nothing could ever replace your roots, and when those roots are taken away... you just have to make do with the best you've got.
He found the Whilom that had first introduced him to the pack. He knew he had been gone for sometime, so he approached as if he was a new pup: head lowered, eyes downcast, ears at half-mast, and his tail tucked between his legs, but not so much to make one assume fear.