Only a Memory Away

Shawchert Menue · 10-31-2010, 09:14 PM

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(5 Points) OOC: <3

Today was a rather cold day, but Shawchert’s wintercoat was coming in, which made him sad because his natural red was mixing in with the maroon he’d made, though he did like the deep color of his pelt, he did like showing off his dye work, even though it was never his, he’d always had someone hired for it. He couldn’t get any more of the dye until springtime when he could make it from the different flowers and berries.

He was heading north today, he’d smelled a pack that was close by not too long ago, and thought he’d explore it, and hopefully find some friendly faces, of course he wasn’t going to trespass onto their lands but he had luck before where some had actually been just outside their borders. He was once again playing his flute that he’d made so long ago, it was getting old in the years, well not really really old, he’d made it a year and a half ago, but he’d played it so often he could hear that it was being wore out, he’d have to make another soon. He was playing a slow tune, one fit for the autumn weather, something that was swayable as the leaves swayed when the wind blew through them, and they fell from their home to rest on the ground below. Autumn was ultimately Shawchert’s favorite season. He’d love it if the season never changed from now on, but he knew that all seasons were needed, and that he’d help them all by being the wolf he was.

Soon he found himself close to the borders of Dahlia and saw why it had been picked of all places for a pack. He moved along its borders keeping his eye out for anything interesting and anyone in particular, his flute still to his mouth. He moved on and on until he saw a solitary shape in the distance, where he took a sudden stop in both his feet and his flute. There stood a cream colored wolf in what looked like camouflage; it was the exact colors of autumn, making the light brown in her fur look as though it was white instead of a very light brown. He was struck by her beauty, though Shawchert had never been attracted to the looks of women, he had always been mistaken, and today was one of those days as he slowly pulled the flute from his mouth. She was amazing, even with that lost look in her eyes, his heart pounded on his chest as he moved forward, slowly, hoping he wasn’t dreaming of such beauty

Hello, what a fine day this is, to see two beautiful things in one setting. The autumn with all its wonder and now a very fine wolf to present myself to. My name is Shawchert, I’m a leader of the pack Cercatori D’Arte.

He said when he got within earshot to talk. He was a charmer at heart, but not a flatterer, he said things as truthfully as he’d saw them, and he saw her as the shining image of Autumn itself, if she were wearing anything different, he’d see her as whatever it was she looked like to him.

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