Word Count » 1,017
Freedom…. Such a thing was foreign to him, like an old friend that had long since left him for bigger and better things and had long since moved on, leaving him with only a vague remembrance of what it was like. No, he had not been free in so long but that was okay with him. His life now was far better than it had been in the past with his master that even though he dictated his life, it was a life that he wouldn’t give up for anything if he could help it. He would fight to preserve his master and preserve the small cherub that had claimed him. The burn mark on the back of his neck said as much and it was this that fingers often ghosted over, easily found given how different burned fur felt rather than the fur around it which was a cloudy gray color. It was a welcome scar rather than the other marks that ran around his body, skinning him in places, making it easy to see the pink skin underneath. Most of these were covered up by the clothing that he put on like he was doing right at the moment, his fur still trying to dry from his morning shower that he had stolen away from his master to go and take. He wanted to stay fresh though since it was a luxury not given to him when he was a part of the slave trade world.
It was a pleasant sort of day out, and better since he was alone but close enough to the pack that he could hear the whines and commands of his master without too much work but today he had to go out and hunt. It was necessary though in order for them both to be happy and healthy so he looked over to his dagger and picked it up, sliding it onto a belt before buckling it around his hips. Oh sure he could transform and he would have his teeth and claws but in a sudden fight there was no time to think about it and he didn’t like to be anywhere without the dagger since to him it was a sign that he was a free man in that sense. He could defend himself against someone coming in for the attack and not have to worry about any sort of lash from the whip for doing what it was that he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Strong legs carried him back up the embankment from the water, shaking his head before he ran a hand through the white hair, fluffing it back up in the back away from his brand. The motion flashed his Salsola mark on his ribs and he gave a little sigh, readying himself to go out and about. When he went to go and spy on the other packs he was going to have to bind his sides to avoid his mark coming out. He had to pick a pack to go and look at though. Just as he was about to go out a call came out over the lands and he frowned, turning his head towards the call.
It wasn’t the first call though and he gave a snort, recognizing that it was calling for him. Throwing a last glance to where he knew his love to be, he then turned back around and he started to go on his way, loping as he got into a good stride and rhythm. The boogeyman of the pack, he was one of three and one who enjoyed a happy, comfortable relationship and position in the pack. Of course his position could be pulled from him at any moment but there was a fierceness in his eyes that was startling for one as submissive as he. The tattered remnant of his ear picked up the last of the series as he came into the area where Tayui was. He began to search for someone that had called him when Darijus told him that someone was looking for him, a female. Nodding his head in thanks, the arbiter walked off in a slow and purposeful stride where not a single movement was lost. The ruins were one place that he hadn’t really looked at too much or too deeply, preferring not to get lost in the deep, dark stretch of buildings. He came across Tayui at long last, slowing before he approached her. By her scent she wasn’t quite as high as he was and so by law wasn’t required to show her as much respect but he still gave her a little bow of his head as he approached her, stopping just outside of her immediate reach in case this wasn’t a pleasant meeting.
”Were you the one who called me?” He asked her in his low, neutral voice, not a single emotion portrayed on his scarred face. He turned his head a little to the right so that he could see her, wanting to be able to see her clearly not half-fuzzy. He could have just squinted his eyes at her but that wasn’t something that he particularly wanted to do. It was easier for him to do it this way since there was less of a chance of him getting a headache and it was far too early for him to cry sick and go lay down. He waited for an answer, taking his ease in front of her. She didn’t seem to be in any sort of mood to fight with him so his gaze came back to face her head on, both his fuzzy and his normal eye looking at her, both his tattered and his normal ear training his hearing on her. Part of him wasn’t too happy about having to meet with someone in such a place like this but it was a silly thing for him to not like. It was out in the open with plenty of places for him to go if something went wrong so he relaxed, the neutral male easing his friend nerves.
