01-01-2011, 11:16 PM
Character Birthdate: 8/13/2008
Species: Tundra Wolf - Pure
Gender: Male
Preferred Ark Rank: Musician
A Secondary Form of Contact: PM, AIM - KKelsasaurus. You know this sillies!
Currently Played Characters: Tala Djose
So, this was what Canadian winters were truly like. They were harsh, words had not prepared him for this, and was he in no way enjoying it. Coming from a place where snow came in light clusters, not heavy blankets that would smother the unsuspecting. He missed the green, he missed the mild winters, hell, he missed that old house full of prude old aristocratic mindsets. The red and off white wolf had not been in this land long. Only long enough to wonder if he had made the wrong choice in choosing to come during the winter months. When he had expected things to be less chaotic, less.... well, more than this. Though it seemed that he had no choice now. He was stuck here, with nothing but the hide on his back and the hard case in his hand. Within held a possession so dear he would snarl at someone for even thinking about messing with it. When you have none but one, the one becomes your everything.
How long had he been walking? Jensen O'Callaghan had lost count far to long ago to even attempt and recall. It had been weeks, but it felt like months. The lands here were harsh, but nothing the auburn brute could not handle. Well, that's what he got himself to believe anyway. With cowhide case in hand the Luperci moved in silence, occasionally he would glance to the trees to watch birds or squirrels as they chattered at him, defending what they felt was in danger with his presence. He just smirked, chuckling at them or moving quickly to startle the beats away. Jensen was starting to notice a increasingly dense smell of wolves. The smell was not unknown, but who it belonged to however, was indeed quite unknown. A pack, that was clear. Assuming by scent, mostly or entirely wolves. Hmm, well, he didn't feel like going around. Either he'd cross eventually or park his butt down and wait until he felt compelled to keep going.
He went with the later option , deciding that continuation was unnecessary at this point. The auburn and white mess of a male set himself down at the base of the tree that smelt strongly of fresh, or adequately fresh pack scent. Pressing his back against the bare truck the brute was quiet as he unclasped the case and pulled out his pride. His violin, his one truly adored item. He clasped it with gentle hands as he brought one end to his shoulder, chin pressing to the small pad before he used his right hand to pick at the bow. He exhaled slowly before the bow and horsehair met in harmony. The tune was slow, it held a vast amount of emotion but followed no words. Whether or not anyone came by or even heard, the man was content with playing only for himself.
The width of the tree had left his seat with very little snow. Pine needles did prod, but it did not seem to bother him at all. Especially once his mind was set on his music, the man was lost. His ears were flat in a nearly submissive content state. Anyone could tell the dual coloured brute was lost in his song like a bird in it's call. When he played the world was at peace. He felt at home. Like things were more.... normal, for once.
Species: Tundra Wolf - Pure
Gender: Male
Preferred Ark Rank: Musician
A Secondary Form of Contact: PM, AIM - KKelsasaurus. You know this sillies!
Currently Played Characters: Tala Djose
So, this was what Canadian winters were truly like. They were harsh, words had not prepared him for this, and was he in no way enjoying it. Coming from a place where snow came in light clusters, not heavy blankets that would smother the unsuspecting. He missed the green, he missed the mild winters, hell, he missed that old house full of prude old aristocratic mindsets. The red and off white wolf had not been in this land long. Only long enough to wonder if he had made the wrong choice in choosing to come during the winter months. When he had expected things to be less chaotic, less.... well, more than this. Though it seemed that he had no choice now. He was stuck here, with nothing but the hide on his back and the hard case in his hand. Within held a possession so dear he would snarl at someone for even thinking about messing with it. When you have none but one, the one becomes your everything.
How long had he been walking? Jensen O'Callaghan had lost count far to long ago to even attempt and recall. It had been weeks, but it felt like months. The lands here were harsh, but nothing the auburn brute could not handle. Well, that's what he got himself to believe anyway. With cowhide case in hand the Luperci moved in silence, occasionally he would glance to the trees to watch birds or squirrels as they chattered at him, defending what they felt was in danger with his presence. He just smirked, chuckling at them or moving quickly to startle the beats away. Jensen was starting to notice a increasingly dense smell of wolves. The smell was not unknown, but who it belonged to however, was indeed quite unknown. A pack, that was clear. Assuming by scent, mostly or entirely wolves. Hmm, well, he didn't feel like going around. Either he'd cross eventually or park his butt down and wait until he felt compelled to keep going.
He went with the later option , deciding that continuation was unnecessary at this point. The auburn and white mess of a male set himself down at the base of the tree that smelt strongly of fresh, or adequately fresh pack scent. Pressing his back against the bare truck the brute was quiet as he unclasped the case and pulled out his pride. His violin, his one truly adored item. He clasped it with gentle hands as he brought one end to his shoulder, chin pressing to the small pad before he used his right hand to pick at the bow. He exhaled slowly before the bow and horsehair met in harmony. The tune was slow, it held a vast amount of emotion but followed no words. Whether or not anyone came by or even heard, the man was content with playing only for himself.
The width of the tree had left his seat with very little snow. Pine needles did prod, but it did not seem to bother him at all. Especially once his mind was set on his music, the man was lost. His ears were flat in a nearly submissive content state. Anyone could tell the dual coloured brute was lost in his song like a bird in it's call. When he played the world was at peace. He felt at home. Like things were more.... normal, for once.