OOC: Told you it'd be up today. ^^
Slade liked nothing more in winter than to have complete silence. There were no birds chirping during this time of year, squirrels couldn't scamper through the branches if they were in hibernation, and snow made no noise at all. While these sounds didn't bother the young coyote, it was always nice to have silence. Ever since he had joined the pack of Cercatori d'Arte he found that he couldn't get away from everything and just take a brisk walk around the territory without being intercepted by someone else, whether it be trespassers, abrasive loners, or just other packmates. His best thoughts came to him when he heard nothing but snow crunching beneath his paws.
Slade, for once, wasn't coming up with any valiant stories of the heroism of his fictional father. As he walked through the snow-covered forest, staying well within the borders, he was thinking about the many advantages of becoming a Luperci. The topic had come up quite a bit as of late, as he knew the limitations there were to not having hands. Most of the time these limitations were mainly the inability to write, but Slade also could name several other things hands could do; weapons were always useful, especially if a certain pesky crow dared to show its face again; he could try carving, which he had seen the leader Shawchert doing--though he had a feeling he would be horrible at it; he couldn't play an instrument.
That was an interesting thought. Slade had never considered himself a musical canine, but as he thought about it he realized that several of the members of his pack were into music. The most he had ever seen or heard of music was when wood was fashioned into some sort of object - instruments, he thought they were called - or canines used their voices to make some sort of mellifluous sound. It occurred to him again how little he knew about the world of the Luperci, and that maybe he ought to learn more before he even considered becoming one.
Shoving the thoughts aside, Slade glanced into the trees before him he realized he was approaching the familiar town of Thornbury. His past experiences in this town had been a bit less than good, but now as Slade was trying to act more his age he decided he would give a bit of exploration one more go. It seemed like such a long time ago that he had flung a rock at one house; where had the days gone?
These nostalgic thoughts made Slade feel a lot older than he was and usually acted. Shaking his head, trying to think up some new story to return his mindset to its typical puppy-like simplicity, the young coyote trotted through the trees and entered the realm of Thornbury. Nostalgic memories flooded back to him, which made him feel extremely aged; he was Slade Auctor, the coyote who was nearing two years of age but still acted like an eight-month-old pup, and he was not supposed to be thinking deep thoughts or feeling nostalgic about a town he hardly knew.
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