To feed the hungry

Noss · 03-06-2011, 05:40 PM

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S'alright <3 And pfft; 'moss' and 'lichen' XD

Noss grunted assent to the man's warning of sorts, immediatly falling into step next to him. He couldn't explain it--or perhaps he could...--but he felt the need to be just as dominant as he was in his old pack the minute he became closer to the man. It was probably partly due to the threatening stature and Noss's innate nature to assert authority, but he had to realize that there, in Cour des Miracles, he wasn't even the lowest of the low; he was an outsider. He was back to the days where he would be behind the older warriors, following their orders, and he would have to obey or be left behind.

Next to the man, as they prepared to blitz out of the door, Noss felt his muscles tighten in preparation for the stinging cold to come. He didn't know where or what Lunenberg exactly was other than 'a place', so he just lowered his head. He said he would help; being completely pleasant was a different deal entirely. The winds that barraged the door might as well have been a raucus, they were so loud. The large man quickly slipped out of the building and Noss followed suit, turning around on the porch step to help whoever had stepped forth to close the door from the storm. To his surprise he saw that it was Strel, and for a moment Noss held the door and looked down at him. He realized that he did a lot of things without really thinking, and that this was perhaps one of his stupidest risk-taking moments. But Strel looked worried, not mad or angry that he was going. If I come back alive he might beat me though, he thought with joking humor. And what a time to have humor... Noss heard the barely audible mumble of 'Good luck' come from Strel over the howling of the wind, and he went down to face level with Strel. "I promised, remember?" he said, referring to his promise to always come back; he was very confident in that, among other things. This was no different, and with a last look he shut the door.

With a steeled will he ran after the other man, bounding in leaps through the snow. His heavy build prevented the wind from carrying him far in his strides and his muscles allowed his mild speed to pull through to catch up. He of all people couldn't afford to be lost in the storm. Luckily, even if Noss's pelt merged a little into the snow and wind, the other was a shade of color easily discernable in decent light. With a pause in thought he mused how reckless he was, good-intentioned as often as he tried to convince himself his actions were. He had to begin remembering that he couldn't just do what he wanted to anymore. "Name?" he shouted out above the storm, his deep voice booming and then being carried away by the voice of the wind.

Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.

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