Sing a Soul

Shawchert Menue · 01-05-2011, 04:42 AM

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WC: 429 OOC: A pleasant surprise for the morning!! Welcome to Cercatori and Souls *again <3* Also if you can choose one of the three, doesn't matter how we will be all set, I preferr the actual player to pick out which profession they will be working on, if you feel that you do need a change in the end, just let me know and we can change it for you later on. Smile

Shawchert’s day was going nicely, he’d finished a border patrol right on time, not too early not too late, something that was good for such a thing. Now he was inside his home near a warm fire, keeping warm, his flute keeping him company. He was still a loner by heart no matter what he had done here. He loved his space, and he enjoyed the time that he had alone. This, however was always short lived, but he didn’t mind, he was here for a reason, he made this pack for a reason, though it had been skye’s idea he had rose to the occasion.

Today it was a howl that came to interrupt his alone time. Shawchert stopped playing his flute for time enough to get up from his bead and then head out the door to the stranger at the border. The trees were thick as the Ethereal eclipse had been their borders up to the point of the small field they had. Shaw paid little attention to where he was right now as he was on a mission. He was being asked for audience, and that was what the brute would give him. Shawchert came upon an interesting scene, though nothing out of the ordinary. The man who was always in Optime form didn’t have to look too far for the stranger who called, though he could see this young man had lived an interesting life. Shawchert would ask no questions of the past though. This was the present so he’d be more interested in things such as this.

Hello, My name is Shawchert, I’m the Capitano, or Alpha of Cercatori D’ Arte, I heard your call, how is it I can help you?

The man asked the four legged stranger. Shawchert felt even more overbearing than usual. His height was a good eight feet, so looking down at the other wolf was proving to be a difficult understanding on the male’s part, though he was sure the other one, who had to stare up so at him, was having the same troubles. Shawchert had never asked to be this way, and he was in fact the runt of the family, and though he got little nourishment… at least in his own father’s eyes, he still became the largest of his whole litter, but this he only knew because he’d stayed near his family for a year after being exiled. Now though he was far from them, making his own family. A family of merry makers, a family of writers, craftsmen, a family of art.

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