Anyone out there?

Rook · 06-02-2011, 09:16 PM

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OOC | Hello. Big Grin Hope it’s alright for Rook to be snooping about McNamara’s Landing at such an ungodly hour.

Rook had been wandering for some time now. Well, “some time” wasn’t at all that accurate actually. It might have been a few months, a year or even two years, but either way, the young coyote meandered along his unmarked path on two feet as his clawed-hands kept a tattered canvas messenger bag close to his wiry body. It wasn’t long until he stumbled upon a thin river where memories of his family came to mind. His forehead wrinkled in distress and he shook his head to whisk them away, making his large ears wobble about atop his skull. He focused on the ground in front of him again and where he ought to be going. Dwelling on the nightmares he had had the night before was just going to slow him down anyway. After all, he had new goal to fulfill: find a place to settle down… Staying in the wilderness was starting to get old and a bit lonesome; he wanted to meet people, make friends and share laughter or whatever others did when they socialized now a days.

Taking a deep breath, he continued to trace the river’s path until a peculiar sight caught his eye. Where the field ahead of him should have been lush and thriving in the mild summer temperatures it was desolate and barren. It also seemed to be the home of odd-looking… well… he wasn’t sure what it was, but it was definitely strange with its sharp angles and disassembled pieces. His sage green eyes went to the few boxes that were scattered around the spectacle and almost instantly he began to ponder what discarded treasure they held. He made to move forward but was instantly hit with a wall of scents – a pack, an actual group of individuals. His eyes widened hysterically and he whipped around as if to make sure no one had seen him accidentally trespass. Oops.

The youth shakily clasped his hands together as he jumped back. He had passed a few pack territories in the past few weeks (and made sure to stay well away from them), but somehow, he felt this place was different, and it wasn't just because those various cargo containers seemed to call to him. The air seemed calmer here. He waited and listened just in case he hadn’t seen anyone nearby. It might have been too early in the morning for a leisurely stroll but, still, Rook instinctively abided by the warnings the musk conveyed. When wringing his hands didn’t calm him down, he stuffed them into the pockets of the only article of clothing he wore: a filthy pair of cargo shorts he had traded for in New Brunswick a week or so ago. Maybe if he stuck around long enough someone would come along and grant him access to those discarded boxes or at least entertain him with the possibility of becoming apart of the group that owned this place...

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